For a morbid moment Phil thought she was referring to the cats. Then he saw that there were a series of narrow shelves behind her, starting at the top of the couch and going halfway up the bay and that these shelves were crowded with dolls. Moving closer, he saw they were not ordinary dolls, but extremely realistic human figures, most of them about six inches high. He had never seen dolls so perfectly formed or realistically dressed. There must have been two or three hundred. They stood behind Mary like the cross-section of a crowded three-level street in some tiny living world. In front of the couch was a low table crowded with blocks of wax, molds, micro-tools and magnifiers, several partially completed figurines and piled squares of fabrics so delicate they must have been woven specially. "You like my little people?" he heard Mary ask him. "Most everyone does. I got started out making strip-tease dolls, but these that are all my own are so much more fun. Sacheverell, I think they like having pins stuck through them. I think that's the way they want to be loved." "Perhaps, my dear," Phil heard Sacheverell say with an affectionate chuckle, "but we'll have to wait to see how _he_ feels about it." And then Phil saw that the dolls represented actual individual people, were apparently perfect statuettes of them--so perfect that for a moment he found himself wondering which was the real world: the big one or this tiny one of Mary's. He recognized President Barnes, the USSR's Vanadin, square-jawed John Emmet of the Federal Bureau of Loyalty, several TV and handie stars, Sacheverell, about eight versions of Mary herself, Jack Jones in black tights, Juno in maroon ones, Dr. Romadka and--he caught his breath--Mitzie Romadka in an evening frock very much like the one he'd seen her wearing. "Recognizing friends?" Mary asked softly, her young face which was so predominantly nose and chin poking up inquisitively toward his. Footsteps clumped. Phil realized that Juno had finally come into the room and was standing behind him looking at the dolls. Mary looked past him with an innocent smile. "They're awfully cute, aren't they?" she remarked. Juno said, "Ugh!" "Try to be joyful," Sacheverell kindly admonished with a little wag of his finger. "Try hard. Soon it will be ever so much easier. I mean, when _he_ wakes. I must go now and see if there has been any change. Amuse yourselves." And having lightly set them that stupendous task, he hurried from the room, his green robes whistling against the black velvet curtains.