” She was silent, and in the gloom of the dimly lit apartment he could not see her face. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. Having seen every precaution taken to ensure his safe custody, he departed, muttering to himself, "I shall yet live to see him hanged—I shall live to see him hanged. 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. Stanley allowed his paper to drop a little, and scrutinized the hats and brows of their three fellow-travellers. It had, as it were, blown up at the concussion of his first step. “Oh, John, please!” “You are already leaving me.
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