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. There was a confused impression of livery carriages and whips with white favors, people fussily wanting other people to get in before them, and then the church. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. "Why? Because I love her! Because I loved her at the start, but was too big a fool to know it!" His own astonishment was quite equal to McClintock's.
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