She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. " "Be it so!" rejoined Sir Rowland, with concentrated fury; "but before we do part, I am resolved to know the name of your pretended husband!" "Torture shall not wrest it from me," answered his sister, firmly. " "Here it is," replied Edgeworth Bess. As he proceeded, other painful reminiscences were aroused. This wedge of silver," pointing to another, "which would mend a coffee-pot, serves to stop up a breach made by Will Colthurst, who robbed Mr. . ’ She thrust him out of the room and made for the stairs. Her head ached with a hollow pain. "I am glad you think that," she replied. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion.
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