It might be dangerous to thwart him. She had often wondered if Hoddy would ever go back to it. 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. Little things, almost impalpable, had happened to justify that doubt; something in his manner had belied his words. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force.
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