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. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. . He had no wish to go foraging in Spurlock's trunk. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. Getting back the ice was rather a serious affair. "Eggs for me! You mistake, child. " Hastening from this heart-rending spectacle, Jack soon reached the grating that divided the men's compartment from that appropriated to the women. “You should quit. She was quite assured that she would never see him again.
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