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 mewed weakly, “Sebastian? What have you done? Where is Gianfrancesco? Did you kill him?” He crossed his arms. “I have had a trying evening and I need rest. Gifts came from Florence: rubies and emeralds, a beautiful statue of Santa Maria for their garden grotto, a gorgeous silk tapestry of a hunting scene that alone made the price of her dowry look paltry. There was now no honest way of warning Taber that the net had been drawn. There were moments when she thought of turning upon this man and talking to him. She no longer felt sick or dizzy, her muscles returned to a relaxed, supple state. "To be plain, then," said Winifred, "he has asked me whether I have any objection to you as a mother. Of course, he had no idea who I was.
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