How Jack Sheppard attended his Mother's Funeral 435 XXVII. Well, one must hope, that was all. The young lady with whom I was dining last night was Miss Anna Pellissier. 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. But, on the bursting of that bubble, his hopes vanished with it.
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