The stranger looked at him as if strongly disposed to chastise his impertinence. " "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. I knew where I would go next: Florence. "He stands before you," rejoined her son. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. . "I wouldn't give a betel-nut for a man who wouldn't stick to his guns, if he believed himself in the right.
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