Brendon and I returned from the ‘Unusual,’ and found him lying in my room shot through the lungs. Decidedly this was imbecile. 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. "Where did you find it!" asked Wood. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine.
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