Gerald raised a questioning eyebrow. “And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. “My hand! This isn’t the place. Each was draped in transparent silk, dancing, beckoning to me, teasing me. Then I assumed a rather portentous manner to prepare him. 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. On this I am resolved. Maggot. I am fairly well hardened in iniquity—your iniquity, Annabel—but I decline to have a husband thrust upon me. For if Gerald had indeed gone to see this Prudence, it was better to wait for his report. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall.
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