Cecilia said hastily: "Do you mind if I shut the window, father ?" Mr.Stone made a movement of his head, and Cecilia saw that he held a second sheet of paper in his hand.

She rose, and, going towards him, said: "I want to talk to you, Dad!" Taking up the cord of his dressing-gown, she pulled it by its tassel.
"Don't!" said Mr.Stone; "it secures my trousers." Cecilia dropped the cord.

'Father is really terrible!' she thought.
Mr.Stone, lifting the second sheet of paper, began again: "'The reason, however, was not far to seek---" Cecilia said desperately: "It's about that girl who comes to copy for you." Mr.Stone lowered the sheet of paper, and stood, slightly curved from head to foot; his ears moved as though he were about to lay them back; his blue eyes, with little white spots of light alongside the tiny black pupils, stared at his daughter.
Cecilia thought: 'He's listening now.' She made haste.

"Must you have her here?
Can't you do without her ?" "Without whom ?" said Mr.Stone.
"Without the girl who comes to copy for you." "Why ?" "For this very good reason---" Mr.Stone dropped his eyes, and Cecilia saw that he had moved the sheet of paper up as far as his waist.
"Does she copy better than any other girl could ?" she asked hastily.
"No," said Mr.Stone.
"Then, Father, I do wish, to please me, you'd get someone else.

I know what I'm talking about, and I---" Cecilia stopped; her father's lips and eyes were moving; he was obviously reading to himself.
'I've no patience with him,' she thought; 'he thinks of nothing but his wretched book.' Aware of his daughter's silence, Mr.Stone let the sheet of paper sink, and waited patiently again.
"What do you want, my dear ?" he said.
"Oh, Father, do listen just a minute!" "Yes, Yes." "It's about that girl who comes to copy for you.