“Steady on!” he cried. Her fingers were bursting through her gloves, as if to get at once into touch with Ann Veronica. 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. Her back had stiffened, and her hazel eyes looked steadfastly ahead. ” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. I was perfectly satisfied with your appearance.
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