Even with the low level of light in the room (the fire has been long-starved of fuel) she may be able to see - or at least feel - the flush rising to his face.

"I...I can," he admits, sounding a bit sheepish. "It is the rhythm that drives your life, and I found it comforting last night, when I was still feeling...lost, not knowing where I had found myself, if this was real or simply the afterlife..."