’ He let her go. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. But she felt his lax figure become rigid. 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.
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