The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. ” He leaned back in his chair as though wearied. " "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. So the talk went on. " "No—no," laughed Jack.
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