"What's the matter?" he cried. She held up the lamp. ‘Indeed?’ Gerald said politely. Gerald liked her enormously. 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. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. The Higher Life and the Lower. All the events of the previous day rushed to his recollection; and though he had been unintentionally the cause of his mother's death, he reproached himself as severely as if he had been her actual murderer. ‘Pig! Pig, a thousand times!’ Running footsteps could be heard now, and she knew that the commotion was bringing the nuns, just as she had hoped. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her.
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