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. Wily little devil she is. ‘Now then, girl. That is, if Spurlock had been throwing money about, which was more than likely. Such was the condition of his mind that the danger exhilarated rather than depressed him. I do wish you could come and dine with us some evening. Then she reverted to the trousers.
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