Meantime the spinsters sought the dining room where tea was being served. "Like a hero," answered Austin. 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. " "Professional?" "Why do you wish to know?" "Professional nurses wear a sort of uniform. He kissed her again. Stop it. The pieces fell to the ground in a little white shower.
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