“Do you want to ruin me? I shall walk back. Come along, you mad jade. 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. " "He'll scarcely need a plaister," replied Mrs. Anna failed in her painting, our money was gone, and she was forced to earn her own living.
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