The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. Take it," he cried, lifting the babe from the bottom of the boat, and flinging it towards its unfortunate father. I had no right to marry you. Manning, with entirely suitable emotion. 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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