‘What the devil for?’ ‘Messenger,’ Gerald explained. ” She smiled, sure of herself beyond any pretending, into his troubled eyes. They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight. . ’ Then she came closer and put her hand on his chest so that it rested on the braid that decorated his scarlet coat. ’ ‘But she must have known I’d longed to hear of you. 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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