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. "' Instead of regarding him, Jack glanced over the iron bannisters, and measured the distance. " "You have no son," rejoined Sir Rowland, moodily. My name is Wild— Jonathan Wild. ‘You think so? Well, if that’s so, I know where she gets her impudence, Prudence Sindlesham.
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