’ ‘Nonsense. One doesn’t want to lose a grain. I die happy—quite happy in beholding you. 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. "Taber," said the manager; "Taber is the name. " "Of course," rejoined Kneebone, a little maliciously, "but that's easily accounted for. Are you going to write a novel?” “Not I,” she answered gaily. “Oh, theories! Being in love is a fact. F. Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer functioned in the accustomed groove.
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