She lay still for a long time, and her mind resumed at a more tolerable pace. Painting is only one slender branch of the great tree. Gerald noted the lady’s eyes brighten as she caught sight of him making his way through the throng towards her. If she kept on, would she make it out of the door? Then what? He could come after her before she could reach the secret passage. 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. “It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna. “I’ve never been prone to them. You don't notice the heat; but it is always there, pressing down. After this occurence, not a word was exchanged between them until they came in sight of the sloop, which was lying at anchor off Wapping. ‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again.
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