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. No; I’m going to stick to the rules. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. "I hope you don't imagine anything has gone wrong, Sir. ’ It was thus in stony silence that the pair traversed the short distance to Stratton Street, where Roding knocked on the major’s door and entered a pleasant woodpanelled hall, with his prisoner firmly in tow.
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