CHAPTER I. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. 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 shook his head. ’ ‘Indeed?’ said Gerald, surprised. She could not run, her limbs were frozen.
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