Mounted on wood, fish of different sizes and breeds hung above the cases, and over the fireplace there was a full-length oil painting of a man in a red coat and riding breeches.
His kind eyes greeted Joan.
For several minutes she stood beneath it, smiling back.

Then she turned and put her hand involuntarily on the boy's shoulder.

"Oh, Marty!" she said.

"I AM sorry." The boy gave one quick upward glance, and cleared his throat.

"I told you that this house is mine.