At this juncture, a cry burst from the child, who, nearly smothered by the weight imposed upon him, only recovered the use of his lungs as Wood altered the position of the bundle. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. There was a man, a boy, and a woman. Her thoughts took words for themselves. They did not speak until he had driven past town limits and were on the highway.
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