She went further: she doubted that he was fully conscious of where he was. His tone was rough, almost threatening. But for all that, it offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and conscience lost its edge to bite. Her father intercepted her, and for a moment she and he struggled with their hands upon the latch. Once she heard him mutter, and she leaned down. "Well, Lady Trafford," he said, fixing a severe look upon her. Norris entered the room, followed by Father Spencer. "One of us has got to die," he panted.
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