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. “If you interfere between us,” the man said, “it will go hardly with you. ’ ‘So Charvill did tell him,’ Gerald said, once more staring into the hole in the wall. Yesterday!—who cared? To-morrow!—who knew? "Porpoise," she said, touching his hand. “I am going to ignore it.
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