“You’ve got my view,” he said, after a pensive second. "God in Heaven!" he cried, "the floor is covered with blood. “What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically. They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. “Have you not heard?” she said. 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. What does it matter? It is here, and it is here to stay.
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