He, therefore, desires to interrogate him. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. You are infatuated. 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. ” “But what did father imagine?” “Of course he imagined! Any one would! ‘What has happened, Peter?’ I asked.
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