So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms. Charity for the ragtag and the bobtail of the Seven Seas, and none for his own flesh and blood. Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. “I was glad you did not send it back again,” he said. " "Take it," replied Thames. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt.
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