’ ‘And do not say you made a mull. 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 always wondered why he bought my mother's pearls so readily. On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying.
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