He patted the hand on his sleeve. The blood temporarily halted to her brain, Michelle slept peacefully again. 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. “I do not wish to make impertinent inquiries into your private life. CHAPTER XXXII. “I know. She turned there and beckoned. I was helpless. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk.
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