It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. Could she go through with it? She must. 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. He was content to talk about himself, though in the back of his clever mind he already suspected that she was not offering any details about her life.
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