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. ” “It ought to make one happy. On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. I don’t mean I’m not a good woman—I mean that I’m not a GOOD woman. The houses overhung in a frightful manner, and looked as if the next gust would precipitate them into the river. “I will not rob you of your coffee, most dutiful of sisters!” she exclaimed.
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