The man lingered. “My mom is making duck. “Lucy? Ms. ’ ‘What name would you like, then?’ Her shadowed features turned in his direction. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. And yet, as she rose slowly to her feet and stood looking at him with outstretched hands, a strange mixture of expressions shining in her wonderful eyes, he realized in some measure the strength of her determination, felt the utter impotence of anything which he could say to her. “You and Anna,” she said, “seem to have stumbled upon a mare’s nest.
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