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. If the Wastrel had not turned the instant he did, the ball would have missed him; as it was he turned directly into its path. If I did not love you so much I believe I could win you by sheer force of character, for people tell me I am naturally of the dominating type. They crossed the street, and entering the front door passed up the outside stone steps of the flat.
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