“I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica; “I think I am. . . 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. '" "An ingenious device," laughed Gay. “Yes. “There are two things to be done,” he said softly to himself. Such was the condition of his mind that the danger exhilarated rather than depressed him. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one.
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