" "Then this is not my child?" exclaimed she, with increased astonishment. 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 dared, his nostrils flaring. "I feel guilty, going away and leaving that ignorant child; but our days have been so planned that we dare not change the schedule. ” He nodded twice, with his eyes on the fire, as though that was a formal statement. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. " Just then, the infant began to sob piteously. I want to hammer myself against all this that pens women in.
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