‘What a catalogue. "Confusion!" cried he; "there is another boat in our wake. I have proofs of many things that can endanger you. . "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. 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. “You have put all your life in my hands,” he declared. Sheppard prepared for church.
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