“It’s a way of avoiding explanations. “An uncle in New York is dead, and has left him loads of money. "My friends need not fear my return. “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. I change them in the morning at Cannon Street, and take my book as I come down. 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. " At this moment Charcam entered the room. He answered with the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of the matter—had seen no pocket-book, and no associate to give up.
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