Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. But take a drop of wine," urged he, filling a drinking-horn and presenting it to her; "it's choice canary, and'll do you good. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. But the young man with the orange tie remained in his place, disputing whether the body had not something or other which he called its legitimate claims. And as these things should always be treated as matters of business, I'll just draw up a memorandum of our arrangement. She was fiercely and bitterly jealous. They are very good people, you know. 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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