" "You have no son," rejoined Sir Rowland, moodily. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation.
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