But how would it have been if he had not been greatly depleted from exposure, thirst, and hunger? At that time, the thing he needed most had been warmth. She had brought him that, and it had enabled him to sleep in comfort and to re -- cover more of his well-being. A sexual effort might have been beyond his means. So he had taken her warmth, and nothing else, gambling that her ways differed from those of women in his own reality. Had he been robust, he surely would have interpreted her actions as an invitation. In that he would have been gravely mistaken, as he now understood, after seeing

her way with clothing.

He had, he knew, been lucky.

"You. Think." She tapped her head as she spoke, watch -- ing him.

"Yes. I. Think." He tapped his own head. That was a new word, but clear in this context.

"Think. What?"

"What" was a general query term he had learned to use. When he pointed to an object and said "What?" she would name the object. Now she was inquiring what he was think -- ing.

How could he tell her? It was complicated, and he lacked the vocabulary, and perhaps the information would affront her. "No," he said, smiling to show that this was intended as a positive negation rather than bad feeling.

"Yes," she said insistently. He was beginning to realize that she did not respond well to

"No" when she wanted something. "Tell. Me."

He was obliged to try. He cast about for some way, and saw a small inert figure in the comer, in the likeness of a very young girl. There was something common to both re -- alities!

Like all who were serious about magic, she had effi -- gies.

Serious about magic? But there was no magic here, as far as he had been able to ascertain!

He had been making another potentially dangerous assumption.

"Try," he agreed. He pointed to the effigy. "What?"

Colene looked. "Doll," she said, picking it up. She cra -- dled it as if it were a baby.

"Play."

Play? Was that what they called sympathetic magic? No, probably it meant something quite different. He would have to be extremely careful about that term, until he was sure of its nature.

"Doll. Me."

She gave him the effigy. He held it with his left hand, and extended his right hand.

"Doll. Me."

Colene considered momentarily, then went to the comer. There, in a box, was another figure. This one was male. Good.

She gave him the second doll. He held up the male. "Me." Then the female. "You."

She nodded. She was paying close attention.

He put the male down and covered it with a comer of a

blanket. Then he brought the female, as if she were walking. She came to lie beside the male.

"Last night," Colene said.

"Night," he agreed; that seemed to be the time of dark -- ness. But he made sure. He waved his hand, indicating their surroundings. "What?" Y