She saw me, and, Lady Ferringhall, I shall never forget her look as long as I live. 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. How could he have betrayed her so cruelly? How could he lie and claim her as dead? Sebastian studied her carefully as she refused to cry and became like a pillar of stone. With this air in our blood, this sunlight soaking us. She had found a couple of articles about him over the years, blurbs about the opening of a theater that mentioned him. "When it thunders, the thief becomes honest," muttered Wood. Her breath came fast in little sobbing pants.
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