Henry Barbour called on his daughter, Claudia, this afternoon, and if there was any special reason for his visit, it isn't yet apparent. He's been there for thirty minutes now, sitting on the terrace near Claudia's garden, chatting about flowers, literature, and the state of the world in general. Claudia was called to the phone a moment ago, and he made no gesture to leave. It was Joan, and she was on her way home. Hopefully mother and daughter would talk out their concerns today.