” A shade of concern darkened Carol Diedermayer’s face. McClintock was in a gay mood at dinner that night; but he did not see fit to give these children the true reason. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. He had had five children at irregular intervals, of whom Ann Veronica was the youngest, so that as a parent he came to her perhaps a little practised and jaded and inattentive; and he called her his “little Vee,” and patted her unexpectedly and disconcertingly, and treated her promiscuously as of any age between eleven and eight-and-twenty. 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. But never mind that. "Ireton, as you captured him, the reward is yours.
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