She HAD cried, Ann Veronica knew. His apparel was sumptuous in the extreme, and such as was only worn by persons of the highest distinction. 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. One of the shutters was a trifle damaged, letting in added light. She would be surrendering to all her impulses—particularly the good impulses—many of which society had condemned long since because they entailed too much trouble.
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