"He understands English, even if his vocal apparatus can't form it," I said. "Why don't you just ask him yes-and-no questions? He nods easily enough."
"I did that," she sighed. "I asked if Ted were alive, and he nodded. Then I asked to be brought to him, and he spread his hands. I said, 'Does that mean you don't know where Ted is?' He seemed stymied; he nodded, then shook his head immediately. You figure that one out!"
I tried hard. Nothing happened inside my head. It was filled with the picture of Snow, her lips slightly parted, her violet eyes anxious, her hair like a misty golden corolla.
"I can't. Not with you around. Remember?" I said, helplessly.
She stood up from my bedside. "Then close your eyes, or something, Jery! I'll stand here, quiet as a mouse."
"Well," I said, doubtfully, "I'll try."
I shut my eyes and tried to convince myself that Snow wasn't anywhere about. I couldn't do it.
"No use," I sighed, opening my eyes again. "I can feel you here."
"I guess the only thing to do is send Clatclit in to see you, and stay outside myself," she said.
"Good idea," I said. "Send him around with a lunch, though, will you? I've gone all hollow inside."