I asked him to take me away, and hide me. " "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. Having worked thus for another quarter of an hour without being sensible of fatigue, though he was half stifled by the clouds of dust which his exertions raised, he had made a hole about three feet wide, and six high, and uncovered the iron bar.
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