"Rowland," said Lady Trafford, regarding him with a look of indescribable anxiety, "you have assured me that I shall behold my son. Annabel shook her head. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. Lucy knocked again. Their conversation became stilted. Sheppard, bitterly. "Sometimes a cup of lies is a cheering thing," replied the trader.
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