" "Hold your tongue, hussy!" cried her husband gruffly. And Lady Trafford having been carried down stairs, and placed within it, the postboy drove off, at a rapid pace for Barnet. “I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. . She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. "One last embrace.
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