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. "Tell me the truth, I implore you," cried Thames. ” His eyes were squeezed shut. ‘Quite mad, nuns are. " "What do you think of my sketch, Jack?" said Hogarth, handing him the drawing. ” She yelled. They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness. I require stimulant. "Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son.
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