Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. 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. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. “I think you are getting to understand me better. Place a pistol at my ear, and shoot me, if I've told you false. They sat in the front row.
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