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. “Good God!” he exclaimed. But you have, haven’t you?’ He tutted again. ‘Do not think—’ he panted, ‘that I am finished—with you, mademoiselle.
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