Owing to this circumstance, Mr. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. . He stared at her stupidly, forgetting to guard against the tactics he had come to expect from her. "Bring him out, Quilt. 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. " "A miniature! Of whom?" "That I can't say," replied Jack, mysteriously.
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