Now, Lady Rodney is at home, but, having given strict orders to the servants to say she is anywhere else they like,—that is, to tell as many lies as will save her from intrusion,—is just now reposing calmly in the small drawing-room, sleeping the sleep of the just, unmindful of coming evil.,
Her coming is a thunderbolt, her speech lightning. Lady Rodney changes color, and is for once utterly disconcerted.,
"Have you any sisters?" he asks, vaguely..
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