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. She rose to the fire to stoke it. Covered with houses, from one end to the other, this reverend and picturesque structure presented the appearance of a street across the Thames.
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