" "Then it was not a dream!" ejaculated Sir Rowland in a hollow voice, and as if speaking to himself. He had often read about it, and once he had incorporated it in a story, that invisible force which sent men to prison and to the gallows, when a tongue controlled would have meant liberty indefinite. "I cannot break my vow. “By-the-bye, Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “do you know that I am a very great admirer of your sister’s? I wonder if she has ever spoken to you of me. ‘What, and miss getting myself murdered?’ ‘She said she wouldn’t murder you. As to the picture, I'll keep it myself, though, if you do go I shall need no memorial of you. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb.
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