’ She sagged a little suddenly, as if the painful memories in her mind had exhausted her body. There were no mourners. ‘And since the entire company and Pottiswick himself were unable to find hide nor hair of the infernal French female—’ ‘English, Hilary,’ Gerald reminded him. The mother, Cathy Beck, was as patient and as charitable of an individual that Lucy had ever known, a big kindly Polish-American woman with the heart of an angel. At least, he would always be able to take care of Ruth.
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