” Lucy said, marveling at the intricate cockpit of a model helicopter. 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 presume you were not with her in France?’ Kimble stared. “I had lunch very late to-day, and I did not get home in time for dinner.
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