She took his hand in hers. He’s got flowers. I’ve never met any one like you. Understand once and for all that that answer is final. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. 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. To his great joy he found a small garret-door in the roof of the opposite house open. I've sent for the priest. “But of course it’s aunt’s doing really. “A girl needs her mother most exactly when she thinks she doesn’t. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday.
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