"Yes, Miss Babs," Toory said.
"Talk to him, Babs," Doret urged.
"Hello, Toory," Babs said. "Give me your hand. I want to grasp it."
Toory's mailed hand was sheathed in a soft black glove. He was careful to keep his work-pincer retracted as he had been taught. He held out his hand, keeping it well lowered because the girl was quite small, two feet shorter than himself. Her own hand fumbled around for an instant. Fumbled because—Babs Doret was blind.
"It will be comforting," she said, when her fingers at last closed over the glove. "Father, you've made me very happy."
"The new training should not take more than a month," Erg said. "You must work with him an hour or two each day. You'd better practice walking with him in the city traffic, if you plan to go into the city."
"Not much," Babs said. "Certainly for this summer, anyway, I'll be staying close to home."
"One of my Operatives will report tomorrow," Erg told her. "I'll deliver Toory to you this afternoon.... You will learn the new tasks, Toory?"
"Yes," Toory promised.
Then in the big Erg truck he was taken up into the hills to the Doret summer home where he remained under wait-command in the foyer until the Instructor arrived the next day. How warmly he remembered him from the training periods in the factory. Immediately the new-task training began. It was simple, letting Babs Doret hold his dangling gloved hand, leading her where she directed him to go.