Can you come over?” “I think so. ” “Why not?” She turned on him. He is extremely old—forty at least—and he has a belly excessively fat. The swelling in his limbs had also subsided. She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. 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. ” “You what?” she repeated incredulously. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. And, in applying the term to his friend, Thames meant to pay him a high compliment. Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book.
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