’ ‘But, Hilary—’ ‘Don’t you begin, Lucilla, for I won’t stand for it. This done, he unloosed the pulley, and the ponderous machine, which resembled a trough, slowly descended upon the prisoner's breast. "And I," muttered Jack. There was a case, or something, some years ago. 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.
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