Olive Higgins Prouty

“ Alone, Stephen leaned forward, placed the telephone on the solid foundation of his desk, drew his chair close to it, jerked himself to the edge of the chair, crouched over the telephone eagerly, cupping his hand over the transmitter.
Helen's voice sounded clear and sweet, as if she were in the very room beside him. He hadn't heard her voice for two years.
"Hello."
"Hello, Helen."
"Is it you, Stephen?"
"It's I. Yes. What is it? Are you all right?" ”

“ Helen and Stephen stared at her. They had never felt the steel in Laurel before.
"But, Laurel—"
"Oh, don't let's argue about it, father. It won't do the least bit of good."
"Why, this is absurd, impossible. I cannot allow—"
"Just a minute, Stephen," Helen interrupted. There were bright spots in the center of Stephen's cheeks, too. "Laurel, dear," she said, reaching for Laurel's hand, drawing her down on the sofa again. "Listen. Let me explain. It is your mother's wish. It's all your mother's planning. ”

“ He didn't have any right to ring the bell for you—a man like that. He knows we don't want him. We've shown him. Oh, I hate that man, mother."
"I know you do. You've told me so enough times. Funny. You're your father right over again, Lollie."
"Did father ever see Ed Munn?"
"Mercy, yes!"
"Did father ever hate Ed Munn?"
"Like fury," laughed Stella; "and there was never any sense in it either—no more than with you—just a whim."
Laurel still gazing at the moon and the few far dim stars that seemed to He beyond was silent. Was Alfred Munn one of the pieces of the puzzle, too? ”