But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. He no longer made love to her, as there was no point. ‘Léonore, then?’ She shook her head animatedly, enjoying his attention. " O'Higgins threw out his chest, gave it a pat, and smiled. But then you're an adopted son, and that makes all the difference. The south-east end of the island was hillocky, with volcanic subsoil. The day comes when you shall regret how you have spoken to me. 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.
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