She admired and rather pitied him, and she was unfeignedly grateful to him. ‘Let’s see now. Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. ‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged.
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