Away in London even now Capes was packing and preparing; Capes, the magic man whose touch turned one to trembling fire. 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. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town.
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