"I need not remind you, Sir Rowland," replied Wild, "that you had two sisters— Aliva and Constance. " Sir Rowland moved irresolutely towards the door, but recoiled before a sad spectacle. "Upon him!" "Yield, villain, or die!" shouted Thames, drawing his sword and springing towards him. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense.
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