MR.

STONE IN WAITING That same afternoon, while Mr.Stone was writing, he heard a voice saying: "Dad, stop writing just a minute, and talk to me." Recognition came into his eyes.

It was his younger daughter.
"My dear," he said, "are you unwell ?" Keeping his hand, fragile and veined and chill, under her own warm grasp, Bianca answered: "Lonely." Mr.Stone looked straight before him.
"Loneliness," he said, "is man's chief fault"; and seeing his pen lying on the desk, he tried to lift his hand.

Bianca held it down.

At that hot clasp something seemed to stir in Mr.Stone.His cheeks grew pink.
"Kiss me, Dad." Mr.Stone hesitated.