She reached out and touched the stone, found it cool to the touch.

She reached out and touched my hand, careful not to touch the stone.

But when he touched the stone under him, it felt solid enough.

Reaching out his hand, he touched the stone of the building before which they were standing.

And he stretched out a long arm to touch the old stone once more with a white hand.

He reached out and touched the smooth cold stone of the wall.

He nodded, and reached out to touch the stone again.

And then I realized his feet were not touching the stone.

He might as well have touched the gray stone of the hold and asked it for an answer.

He saw her nod, then put a hand out to touch the stone.