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. “Perhaps,” he said, “I have been to blame. "How long will he be laid up?" "Three or four weeks, if he doesn't peg out during the night. Return, I implore of you, to your master,—to Mr. . Then, if you weren’t looking, he’d get five feet closer.
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