In the afternoons he ran to the old house, where he was making her a pendant. It was the sun, two inches in diameter, made of clay. It had three coats of yellow paint, and he added a fourth. In the old house he read again the chapters on physiology, sexual responses, femininity, everything he could find that touched on his happiness in any way.

She would say no one night soon, and he would give her the pendant to show he understood, and he would read to her. Poetry. Sonnets from Shakespeare or Wordsworth, something soft and romantic. And afterward he would teach her to play chess, and they would spend platonic evenings together learning all about each other.

Seventeen nights, he thought, waiting for her. Seventeen nights so far. The cover was over the window, his room was clean, ready. When his door opened and Andrew stood there, Mark jumped up in a panic.

"What's wrong? Has something happened to Rose? What happened?"

"Come with me," Andrew said sternly. Behind him one of his brothers watched.

"Tell me what's wrong!" Mark yelled, and tried to run past them.

The doctors caught his arms and held him. "We'll take you to her," Andrew said.

Mark stopped trying to yank away, and a new coldness seemed to enter him. Wordlessly they walked through the building, out the far end, and along the pathways cleared in the snow to one of the dormitories. Now he struggled again, but briefly, and he permitted them to lead him to one of the rooms. At the door they all stopped, and then Andrew gave Mark a slight push and he entered alone.

"No!" he cried. "No!"

There was a tangle of naked bodies, doing all the things to one another she had told him about. At his scream of anguish she raised her head, as they all did, but he knew it was Rose his eyes had picked out of all the rest. She was on her knees, one of the brothers behind her; she had been nuzzling one of her sisters.

He could see their mouths moving, knew they were talking, yelling. He turned and ran. Andrew got in front of him, his mouth opening, closing, opening. Mark doubled his fist and hit blindly, first Andrew, then the other doctor.

"Where is he?" Barry demanded. "Where did he go this time of night?"

"I don't know," Andrew said sulkily. His mouth was swollen and it hurt.

"You shouldn't have done that to him! Of course he went wild with his first taste of sex. What did you think would happen to him? He's never had it with anyone at all! Why did that foolish girl come to you?"

"She didn't know what to do. She was afraid to tell him no. She tried to explain everything to him, but he wouldn't listen. He ordered her back night after night."