But that title he would not endure. 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. Spurlock remained where he was until the sail became an infinitesimal speck in the distance. Read that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean. Come!” They went out together and he called a hansom. “John. I am Jonathan Wild. Catch him, she begged silently. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. It was a capital diversion; and as usual the Leatherneck bested the Britisher, in seven rounds.
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