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 would like to have to tell it so. She made no attempt to answer her sister’s question. "My name is Darrell," said the fugitive hastily. I ought to be able to think things out. "What has happened?" Ruth asked.
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