‘If you’ll have the goodness, missie, to move yourself out of the way,’ he said aggrievedly, ‘and let us at him, we might have a chance of doing just that. 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. Her heart full of dread, she dragged on it. It was nothing like the big church wedding she wanted, but nothing could shame her greater than to have a child out of wedlock. Besides, those things are deadly. “All day.
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