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. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within. She fluttered her eyelashes, and adopted the soulful tone that served her well at times. ” Anna shivered a little. “He would never have found you out if you had not personated me.
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