‘For that I shall certainly not leave until you have told me every tiny detail. 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. "Be it so," replied Jack. “Dear John,” she whispered. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt.
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