“Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. She said that? To be closer to you?” “I think she is plotting something, though I cannot guess what. She dismissed the whole subject with a little shrug of the shoulders. "I have killed you," cried Jack, endeavouring to staunch the effusion of blood from her breast. 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. I don’t know that I understand altogether.
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