"Hear me!" cried Thames, bursting into tears. “Have you no understanding of your own advanced history classes? You want to look like a brainwashed Nazi anti-Semite?” Lucy became angry, her nostrils flaring. She had no intention of fighting fair. But let the horses be in readiness. Detached, it was not impossible that she would be forced to leave the dining room because of invading tears. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. It had ceased to beat.
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