" "You did not hear her when she spoke to her father; I did. \"I told you he likes you!\" She whispered hotly into Lucy's ear. Don’t favour your father much, either, if it comes to that. Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all. 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. Satisfied that he had solved his difficulty, he proceeded to his room. " "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. A tall elegantly dressed woman, followed by a maid, came down the broad staircase. Around her neck was a little gold chain. When she spoke, her lips twitched.
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