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. ’ ‘Even if they militiamen weren’t there, miss,’ cautioned her cavalier, ‘you couldn’t go marching into the house open like. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. She came into the room. But I've stacks of books and a grand piano-player. . She had never before heard the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering racket caused her to wince.
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