The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. 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. Before her was a great Gothic portal. I saw her come out from the flat buildings two minutes before we entered it last night. .
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