"Ah!" he exclaimed, "a letter, beginning 'dearest Aliva,'—that's your mother's name, Thames. ” “Isn’t it. " "Faithful fellow!" murmured Jack. "To me?" gasped Winifred. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. Around her neck was a little gold chain.
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