She was shifting, moving back. "My heart," rejoined Thames, firmly; "which now tells me I am in the presence of his murderer. And if I don’t, I go mad. Go away now, there’s a good lad. "Come to my arms, Thames! Oh! dear! Oh! dear!" To repeat the questions and congratulations which now ensued, or describe the extravagant joy of the carpenter, who, after he had hugged his adopted son to his breast with such warmth as almost to squeeze the breath from his body, capered around the room, threw his wig into the empty fire-grate, and committed various other fantastic actions, in order to get rid of his superfluous satisfaction—to describe the scarcely less extravagant raptures of his spouse, or the more subdued, but not less heartfelt delight of Winifred, would be a needless task, as it must occur to every one's imagination. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.
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