Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. Then I saw Mrs. The stranger with a bow returned to his table. ” Ten thousand! Put that way it seemed so different. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. 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. ” He unfolded his serviette with fingers which shook all the time.
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