"His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him. . A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. “And by what right do you do anything of the sort?” “No right at all,” he admitted.
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