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. “It’s your birthday today, May Day. ” “You have seen her—since last night?” “Yes. “I knew Mr. Prudence Remenham. I don’t have to take this shit. He offered me at once an engagement. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. ” “Possibly—bit by bit. ‘I have told you, a whip it is nothing. “Dear me! I wonder what I ought to do. .
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