It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. Once she reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his arms went around her waist. She knew, too, she must not hesitate. 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. It would have been a crisis anyhow, but it was complicated in Ann Veronica’s mind by the fact that a letter lay on the breakfast-table from Mr. " "Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan. "He can't escape. Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father. ” “Is that bad?” A shade of concern deepened on Shari’s face.
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