"My child!" he groaned faintly. She paused for a moment. 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. " Broken pipes littered the floor, if that can be said to be littered, which, in the first instance, was a mass of squalor and filth.
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