In fact, one of them was downright sceptical. 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. "He will be murdered!—Help!" "My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. She controlled herself, and answered meekly, “No. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. " And she burst into a wild hysterical laugh. You make me angry, and I lie.
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