‘I’ll get the key,’ said Roding, turning abruptly. She wanted his attention, but so did everyone else. “P. 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'll find those young ladies extremely agreeable acquaintances. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey.
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