"What ho!" he cried slapping Smith, who had fallen asleep with the brandybottle in his grasp, upon the shoulder. 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. Both McCloskeys disappeared on the same night, without a single trace.
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