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. “I’ll be here at one in the morning. “Yes. This—this shatters a world!” She tried to feel sorry, but her sense of his immense egotism was strong and clear. "Miss Enschede and Mr.
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