Chapter Text
"Happy Numbers, Master Van Dort! Hope you slept well!"
"Q-quite well, Mrs. Alton, thank you," Victor said – before immediately yawning loudly. He hastily covered his mouth with his hand, going pink. "Oh, ex-excuse me...um, b-better than I slept in Elder Gutknecht's house, anyway," he qualified sheepishly.
Mrs. Alton tittered. "Well, that's good at least," she said, giving him a nod and a smile – not that she ever seemed to stop smiling. Then again, she is Smiler's mother, so I suppose it only makes sense… "And you don't need to be so formal – you're more than welcome to call me Carol if you want! We're all friends here, aren't we?"
"Ah – I'd – I'd feel rather odd d-doing that, I'm afraid," Victor admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "Mother and Father always insist I show my elders the p-proper respect – they'd probably be upset with me if they heard me being so, um, f-familiar with you." Though, given you and your husband aren't nobility, perhaps they wouldn't care quite that much. "You can call me Victor, though, i-if you want," he added, not wanting to seem too rude in his refusal. "I don't mind."
"Whatever makes you the happiest," Mrs. Alton assured him. She went back to her frying pan, flipping the pieces of bread within. "Anyway, sit down and make yourself comfortable – we're having eggy toast for breakfast! Do you prefer yours savory or sweet?"
"Sweet, please," Victor said, making his way over to the nearby dining table. Smiler was already there, humming to themselves as they set out cups of tea for everyone. "Happy Numbers, Smiler."
"Happy Numbers, Victor!" Smiler replied, hitting him with one of those grins brighter than any Brightstone street lamp. "How are you doing? Looking forward to going home today?"
"Yes – m-mostly," Victor confessed. "I'm still a little worried how my parents will react to my a-absence…is this one mine?" he added, putting his hand on the cup nearest to him. At Smiler's nod, he promptly picked it up and had a fortifying sip, sighing as it washed over his tongue. "Mmmm...I still don't know how you can make this so perfectly after knowing me – what, three days?"
"Pretty sure it's four now – and I've just always had a talent for drinks of all sorts!" Smiler told him. "Besides, yours is a pretty simple recipe to remember."
"Exactly – dump in so much cream and sugar it barely tastes like tea."
Alice entered the room, running her fingers through her hair to comb out the last of the bedhead tangles. "Hatter wonders what's the point of even putting a tea ball in your cup," she added with a devilish little grin. "You might as well leave it out and let those who enjoy the taste have it."
Victor chuckled. "I don't think I'm that bad – and, ah, I actually have tried j-just mixing cream and sugar on their own and heating it up over the stove," he added, playing with his shirt collar. "It turned out too sweet, funnily enough. I need the tea to balance it out."
"You can take your tea however you like, as far as I'm concerned," Smiler said loyally. "Whatever makes you happy."
"Oh, I'm not complaining about how he takes it – Hatter is," Alice insisted, looking around the table. "Which is my place?" Smiler pointed. "Thank you – and we all know he and his take their tea far too seriously for a group of nearly-Hulls and enhanced animals who will get up and change cups during one of their endless parties on a lark," she continued, scooping up her own tea and taking a long sip. "Ahhh...though while we're on the subject of tea, I am going to miss your brewing skills when I get back to Elder Gutknecht's, Smiler. Nothing I could do could ever compare."
"Hey, don't put yourself down – I'm sure you make a great cup of tea," Smiler encouraged her. "I just have an advantage because I've been playing around with alchemy ever since I was small – a lot of the skills for making a good alchemical are transferable to making a good cup of tea."
"Mmm – plus they've always had a bit of a knack for measuring things, and guessing how long something needs to boil," Mrs. Alton added, glancing up from her cooking. "Anyway, happy Numbers, Alice – you look lovely in that dress!"
"Thank you – and thank Miss Joytide again for lending it to me." Alice lifted the edge of the black-and-yellow-checked skirt, comparing it to the black-and-yellow-striped bodice. "You want to know something funny? I have a dress in Wonderland a bit like this."
"Really?" Victor asked, intrigued.
"Mmm – different color scheme, but the same patterns," Alice nodded. "It's called the 'Misstitched' dress – I was wearing it while wandering around The Dollhouse."
"Oh, that sounds like a fun place!" Smiler said brightly. "What did you do there?"
"Discovered exactly what it was that Dr. Bumby was doing to the children under his care," Alice replied with a brittle, sarcastic smile. "Rather a lot of naked baby dolls scattered around the place, I'm afraid to say. Some of which I had to fight."
Smiler was silent for a moment – not that Victor blamed them, because he certainly had no idea how to respond to that. "...well, that's just another reason to be glad Bumby's dead now," they finally managed. "Maybe things will get better there now that he's gone?"
"I'm hoping – with the Dollmaker dead, the place can't get any worse at least." She sighed. "It might take a while to heal from his intrusion, but – fingers crossed?"
"Fingers crossed," Mrs. Alton echoed, doing just that as she looked over her shoulder. "Oh, Alice – sweet or savory eggy toast?"
Alice tilted her head. "Eggy toast comes in savory?"
"Yup – you fry it up with salt and pepper, and serve it with red sauce," Mrs. Alton told her. "Matt usually has it that way – I can cook yours with his, if you'd like to try it?"
"Tempting...but while my sweet tooth doesn't equal Victor's, it still exists," Alice said after a moment's thought. "So I'll take mine sweet, if it's not any trouble."
"No trouble at all – that's why I asked!" Mrs. Alton grabbed a couple more slices from the loaf sitting nearby. "We're not about to send you off with empty stomachs – or stomachs full of something you didn't actually want to eat!"
"Exactly," Smiler agreed. "We're all about starting the day off on a good note!"
"I see – well, breakfast isn't surprise loaf today, so I'd say we're already more in tune than we were before," Alice said with a little smile.
"Really," Victor agreed, shuddering as he recalled picking up that horrible mass of detritus that could just barely be called food, and seeing something red and green wriggling in it. "Ah – w-where is Mr. Alton?" he added, shoving away thoughts of caterpillars crawling around in his stomach.
"Oh, Dad's downstairs getting your clothes out of the laundry room," Smiler explained, taking their tea and having a little sip. "They should be dry after a Names sitting under the lights."
"Oh, good." Victor looked down at his borrowed pants and shirt, hanging loosely off his spindly frame while still managing to expose most of his forearms and shins. "I don't think Mother would appreciate me showing up like this – n-not that I don't appreciate your f-father lending these to m-me!" he added hastily, waving his hands before him. "I-it was very kind of him, it's just–"
"Just the clothes don't fit and you'd like your old ones back," Smiler cut in, in what Victor was starting to think of as their "time to snap Victor out of one of his anxiety spirals" tone. "It's fine, Victor – nobody thinks you're being ungrateful. You're just stating the obvious." They chuckled. "Besides, it wasn't like we were going to force you to go home without your own clothes. That'd be rather rude."
"It would indeed – though if you two do want to keep anything we've lent you, you're welcome to," Mrs. Alton added with another look over her shoulder. Her eyes traveled over Victor's form. "Granted, they'll probably need alterations, but we have some ladies here who are very good with a needle and thread!"
"Oh, I have plenty of clothes," Victor replied, then winced as he took in what had just come out of his mouth. Goodness, could you sound any more like a spoiled rich brat? "You don't – ah – I'm – I'm fine."
"I…" Alice's face did interesting things as she looked at her checkered skirt. "I don't want to just take Miss Joytide's dress…"
"Alice, I've seen her wardrobe – Joytide has two other dresses and a pantsuit pretty much exactly the same as that one," Smiler told her. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind giving you one. Plus, taking that dress means you might be able to get rid of that green one we all know you hate," they continued in a bit of a sing-song.
"Well, you've seen what color it is – who would like that dress?" Alice asked, folding her arms.
"Honestly? Probably my friend Thirteen – she's very big into sickly green."
"Oh – well then. Maybe I'll give it to you, and you can pass it along to her." Alice picked at her skirt. "As for this dress...well, I'll talk to Miss Joytide before we go. If she says she can spare it, then I'll put it in my bag."
"Fair enough!" Smiler plopped into their seat. "Speaking of going – you two still want to leave before lunchtime, right? We'll all take a gondola to Nightmarket and walk Victor back to his house, then I'll take Alice over to Elder Gutknecht's in Six Towers?"
"Sounds like a good plan to me," Alice said, glancing at Victor for confirmation.
"I'm perfectly happy with that," Victor agreed, sitting down himself. "Though I do hope Mother and Father don't get upset with me for interrupting their midday meal."
"They shouldn't get upset – they should be happy to see you after you've been gone the better part of a week!" Alice sighed heavily, shaking her head. "I swear, Victor – I haven't even met your parents, and already I severely dislike them."
"You've, um, made that very c-clear over the past few days, yes," Victor murmured, reaching for his tie on instinct – his fingers groped empty air, then settled for fiddling with his shirt buttons instead. "T-they're not that bad, really. Just – ah – particular."
"Maybe, but I think they could stand to be a little less particular when it comes to you." Alice's expression abruptly softened, becoming a little sad. "I'm going to miss arguing with you about your parents. Just talking to you and Smiler in general, honestly. It's been – nice, being able to have a conversation with someone other than the voices in my head. Most of whom are not good conversationalists," she added with a glare at the ceiling. "I don't care if you are an impresario, Carpenter – you're also damn near incomprehensible at times with your tendency to knock words together."
Smiler chuckled. "I really wish I could hear the other side of all these arguments – I want to know how bad some of those knocked-together words truly are," they commented with a fond smile. "But you know, you're not going to be alone over there. For one thing, I don't think Elder Gutknecht is leaving his own house anytime soon."
"True," Alice allowed with a small grin. "Be rather rude of me to kick him out, wouldn't it?"
"Extremely," Smiler nodded. "And I don't think you'd get away with it, either. But yes, you'll have him to chat with – and if it's losing the chance to talk to me and Victor specifically that you're worried about, it's not like you're never going to see us again after today! I plan to drop in as often as I can, and I'm sure Victor will do the same!" They laughed. "Honestly, what with his Whisper training, you'll probably be seeing him so often, you'll think he lives there too!"
"Oh – ah – um – I – I-I'm not – I'm not going to take Elder Gutknecht up on that," Victor mumbled, sinking down in his seat a bit.
Smiler's expression froze for a long moment. "...what?" they finally said, turning toward him.
"I-I'm not going to b-become a Whisper," Victor confirmed, fiddling with his fingers.
"But – why – why not?" Smiler asked, sounding as lost as Victor had ever heard them sound. "I thought – you seemed interested when Elder Gutknecht brought the idea up back when we first met him! And I saw you chatting with Neil in the courtyard before dinner last Names – when he summoned that bolt of lightning, your eyes lit up even brighter than they do when you're looking for ghosts! I'm kind of surprised you didn't spend the entire Names out there with him, trying to get the knack of it – you seemed pretty keen on figuring out how it worked!"
"And I have the power of summoning the tempest, thanks to Meta!"
Victor blinked. "Me – what?"
"Meta – the most ancient language of sorcery!" Neil explained with a big grin – not that anyone in the MOJ had small grins. "It's how demons command their various elements. Most of it is rather difficult to get a human tongue around, but the words for 'rain' and 'snow' and 'fog' and 'lightning' are relatively easy! Easy enough that pretty much any Whisper can master them, if they put in the time. You've got to push yourself a little to make the magic take, of course, but the results are more than gratifying. Here, let me show you!" He turned and raised a hand dramatically. "Perfulgore!"
CRAAACK! A brilliant bolt of lightning leapt out of the clear night sky, striking the ground in front of them and sending spots dancing across Victor's vision. He jumped backward with a gasp, eyes wide. "Oh! That's – oh."
Neil beamed. "Neat, isn't it?" he said in a truly spectacular feat of understatement.
"Very...and – and you can do that whenever you want?" Victor breathed.
"Well, not exactly – like I said, you do have to push yourself, so you don't want to do it too often and thus make yourself unhappy via exhaustion or stress," Neil said, wagging a finger. "But it's there when I need it! As are the other words – let me tell you, being able to whip up a little rainstorm helps a lot with the garden!" He gave Victor a warm pat on the shoulder. "So – does this make seeing all those ghosts a little less scary? Knowing that, if you practiced, you could electrocute them with a word?"
Victor pictured himself at the center of a spectral maelstrom, surrounded by gnashing ghostly teeth and grasping life-leeching hands...and then pictured himself staying that bizarre word and seeing them all get blasted apart by a power no earthly storm could match. A smile that very nearly matched Neil's spread across his face. "Yes. Yes it does."
And then he shook himself, and he was back in the present, facing Smiler's baffled stare. "I – ah – it – it was just – impressive," he murmured, rubbing the back of his head and not meeting their eyes. "It d-doesn't mean that I want to do it myself."
"Really? Because I think most people would want to be able to command the very weather, myself included," Alice said, leaning on her hand and frowning at him. "And I'm with Smiler – you were intrigued the moment Elder Gutknecht suggested you could be a powerful Whisper. I saw it on your face. Yes, you told him that you'd have to think about it, and I can accept you needed some time to get accustomed to the fact that you can see ghosts everywhere all the time now, but – remember when he added us to the ritual to hide his house from passersby? You seemed quite curious as to how it all worked then – even if it did involve donating a bit of blood to the cause."
"I-it's – it's not more than a few d-drops, right?"
"Just enough to trace the sigils," Elder Gutknecht confirmed, pointing to the strange markings at each point of the triangle on the floor of the library. "Pricking your finger should suffice."
"Right...and this will keep us safe from all prying eyes?" Alice inquired, producing her knife from her apron strings.
Gutknecht ran his fingers through his wispy beard, looking suddenly – awkward. "All mortal eyes, at least," he said, a touch reluctantly. "I should tell you that I learned this ritual from a devil."
"A devil?" Victor repeated, eyes wide. "It – it actually s-shared its secrets with you?"
"Not willingly, I bet," Alice said, squinting suspiciously.
"No, quite willingly – forcing a devil into servitude is not the only way to gain its powers or knowledge," Gutknecht informed her. "You can also make a deal with it."
Alice didn't stop squinting. "Aren't devils supposed to be famously good at double-talk? Hiding things in the fine print?"
"They are indeed, my dear – but fortunately the one I contracted with was refreshingly straightforward," Gutknecht said. "He offered me a powerful and – more importantly – stable warding ritual to hide my home from any human or ghost that I wished not to see it, and in return I would accept that the wards would not repel him and his."
"Oh...so – um – that – that devil c-could walk into this house a-any time it wanted?" Victor asked, glancing fearfully at the stairs behind him.
"In theory. In practice, he's never bothered." Gutknecht rolled his neck. "To be fair, it was a devil whose dark desire revolved around obtaining knowledge – the more obscure the better – so perhaps he was satisfied with simply being one of the few to actually know where my house is." He shrugged. "Trust me – if I ever see him, I will be the first to warn you."
"Appreciated!" Smiler grinned, giving him a thumbs up.
"Quite." Alice sighed. "And I do want to be hidden from the very mortal eyes of the law right now, so…" She dug the tip of her knife into her finger, then passed it to Smiler before kneeling down and starting to trace the sigil closest to her. Victor watched closely as she followed every loop and whorl and twist and turn, leaving a thin trail of red behind her. A few seconds later, her finger returned to where it had begun –
And as the blood lines crossed, the sigil lit up with an eerie red light. Victor gasped as the air around them thrummed with power, the blood soaking into the old ink as the light flowed over Alice, wrapping her in the embrace of whatever mystical force powered this arcane ward before winking out. She started, then shivered as the sigil went dark again. "Well – that felt – odd," she said, shaking her head.
"You'll get used to it," Gutknecht assured her, directing her to the next twisted sign at the next point. "If you stay here long enough, anyway." He looked over at Victor with a concerned frown. "All right, my boy?"
"Yes, just…" Victor waved a hand over the line painted on the floor. "I wasn't – expecting that." He hugged himself as Alice started tracing the next sigil. "Does – does all magic feel like that?"
"Not exactly like that – different spells cause different effects," Gutknecht told him. "But you can always feel it when the magic takes. It's reality itself shifting to meet your needs, after all – you can't help but feel it in your bones."
"Or appropriate spectral equivalent," Smiler put in with a little grin, pricking their finger and starting on the first sigil.
Gutknecht chuckled. "Of course." He regarded Victor thoughtfully, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I could show you some of the other rituals I've gathered over the years – tell you how they feel to cast. If you're interested."
Thruuummmm… Victor held his breath as the next sigil flared to life in sickly green, light reaching to brush its fingertips over Alice's form. "I – yes," he whispered, a spark of – something – flaring up in his chest in response. "I'd – I'd like that."
"Exactly!" Smiler added, yanking Victor back to the dining table again. "It's pretty obvious you want to be a Whisper, Victor! And from everything I saw, you like Elder Gutknecht! He's probably the best teacher you could get! So why not take the training?"
"I...I…" I want to, his treacherous heart whispered against his ribs. Because you're both right. I do want to command the weather – to learn how to say the word Neil used to bring down that bolt of lightning last Names, and all the other words he hinted at knowing besides. I do want to study those other rituals Elder Gutknecht showed me – learn how to perform them myself, and maybe even how to make up new ones. And I even want to figure out just how far my new sense for ghosts extends, and how to tell the difference between an Echo and a Specter and a Horror just by feel, and how to capture and bottle them so they can't hurt anyone else. Because I know being a Whisper is a dangerous life, but – I've always wanted to be powerful and special and this might be my best chance. And if I'm stuck with this 'ghost mind,' I might as well get the training to help me deal with seeing ghosts bloody everywhere –
And then his parents' faces popped into his mind, and all the enthusiasm building up inside of him shriveled and died. Because there was absolutely no way his parents would allow him to run off and become a Whisper. He could already hear what they would tell him if he dared bring the idea up – his father laughing it off with a "Ahaha – very amusing, Victor! Don't worry, dear, he wasn't being serious – he knows he'll be taking over the cannery once I end up taken to Bellweather. He's like me – says the most foolish things sometimes! Don't listen to him!" And Mother – oh, she'd be livid. Ranting and raving – "A Whisper?! A bloody Whisper?! Do you think there are any Whispers in high society, Victor? Any nobility that bugger off after ghosts willy-nilly? Or risk themselves and their families consorting with magic and devils? What do you think the Everglots would say if we gave them a son-in-law who was always going on about seeing Specters and Horrors around every corner? They're a very proud house, Victor! And if we're going to prove that they're not any better than us, we cannot be seen as weird! And Whispers are as weird as they come! You're already letting me down on that front, Victor – you cannot make things worse by taking up that title! Not to mention, the way they make their living, they're barely any better than a plumber, or a night-soil man! No, Victor, you are to forget all this ghost-hunting and magic-making nonsense, understand? You have a duty to your father and me, and don't you forget it!"
"Victor?"
Victor blinked, snapping out of his reverie to see Alice and Smiler watching him, concern written all over their faces. "I – I j-just want to – to go back to a normal life," he finally said, letting out a deep sigh. "F-forget this – 'g-ghost mind' of mine ever c-came about. It's been a-an absolutely mad few days, and – I c-can't."
"But – you've probably got the most powerful ghost sense in the city!" Smiler pressed, leaning forward. "And, look, I know getting accused of the murder of a Spirit Warden and having to hide out in an old abandoned house for a couple of days wasn't fun, but – I thought we still had some good times together! And I saw you looking at all those books in Elder Gutknecht's library–"
"Smiler," Alice said, tone firm with warning. "It's his choice. If he wants to give it all up, he can. I don't blame him for wanting to go back to what he had before – who wouldn't pick a life of comfort and ease over what we've had for the past few days?"
Victor winced. "I-it's not – I-I'm the heir to Van Dort Fish," he explained pleadingly. "I – I have responsibilities. I c-can't abandon them."
Smiler frowned, which was always a weird expression on them (not in the least because the corners of their mouth didn't go down properly). "Maybe not, but – I don't know. I just want you to do what makes you happy, not your parents."
"This will make me h-happy," Victor lied, hoping it didn't show on his face. "I – I need to get b-back to normal. I-it'll be good for me."
Smiler squinted hard at him – then sighed and leaned back in their chair. "All right – you know yourself better than I do," they allowed, though they didn't sound particularly convinced of that fact. "But you will be visiting, right?"
"Oh, of course," Victor assured them, glancing between them and Alice. "Even if I'm not taking the t-training, I don't want to give up our friendship. I might not be by as often as you, Smiler, but – I'll drop in when I can." He smiled faintly. "And then we can all argue about my parents some more."
Smiler laughed as Alice snorted, the tension broken. "Well, it is one of our favorite activities," she said with a grin. "I'd hate to give it up." Her smile softened, becoming fond. "I'd hate to give you up. Both of you. Even if the circumstances were far from ideal, I'm glad we met. It's really nice having friends in the real world."
Victor nodded, feeling warm all over. "It is indeed."
"Laundry service!"
Mr. Alton entered the room, carrying a basket containing a familiar charcoal suit, white shirt, dull red waistcoat, dull blue tie, black-and-white-striped blouse, and black skirt, all neatly folded. "My apologies that it took a little longer than expected," he continued, looking around the table with that far-too-wide grin of his (Victor seriously didn't know how it even fit on his face). "But we wanted to make sure that your items were returned looking their best! So after everything was dry, I had Widow Black go over the lot with her needle and thread. It should all be good as new now!"
"Oh – thank you," Victor said, plucking his jacket from the basket and holding it up. Sure enough, the giant rip in his shoulder was gone, as was the little one in his cuff. "Mother would have been quite, um, annoyed i-if I'd come home with my clothes torn."
"Whereas I simply appreciate having a blouse that is both clean and properly mended," Alice said, grabbing the aforementioned item as she joined him. She looked it over and nodded. "And this does look practically brand-new – she did an excellent job."
"Oh, she's the best we have when it comes to quick repairs," Mr. Alton told her. "And only too happy to help two people in such dire straits."
"Well, please tell her we appreciate it," Victor said, running his fingers over the shoulder seam. "Er – s-should we change now, or…"
"You can if you want to – though I should say, breakfast will be up very shortly!" Mrs. Alton said with a cheery trill. "I just have to fry up Matt's – salt and pepper as usual, darling?"
"And red sauce, darling!" Mr. Alton replied, giving her a sickeningly sweet smile. "I presume our guests are taking it in the usual fashion?"
"If that means sweet, then yes we are," Alice said. She looked over at the little kitchen (Victor was still very impressed by how the Advocates had managed to figure out how to fit a kitchen into such a small area. Electroplasmic technology was wonderful). "Is there anything we can do to help?"
"Oh, you're our guests – you don't have to pitch in if you don't want," Mrs. Alton assured her. "We're here to make you feel welcome!"
"And you have," Alice told her. "Which is why I want to help."
"You've done so much for us over the past Names – I'd feel better if I knew I'd done something for you in return," Victor added with a nod.
"All right – if it would genuinely make you happier, Victor, you can get the powdered sugar out of the cupboard there," Mrs. Alton said, nodding at the miniature pantry tucked in the corner. "And Alice, if you like, you can get the red sauce for Matt – plus whatever jams the rest of us might like for our breakfast." She grinned, the light reflecting off her teeth. "I'm partially to snapberry myself."
"My favorite's strawberry," Alice said, heading over to the cupboard – Victor followed in her wake. "What about you, Victor?"
"I've always liked anything apple," Victor said, watching as she opened the door and perused the contents. "Smiler?"
"I like apples too – though my actual favorite fruit is bananas," Smiler put in. "Bit expensive, but they're nice as a treat from time to time."
"Really? Aren't those things full of seeds?" Alice asked, grabbing a jar each of snapberry, apple, and strawberry jam out of the cupboard.
"Actually, not so much anymore! The Cavendish family set up some plantations on the Dagger Isles expressly to try and grow bananas with fewer seeds inside!" Smiler informed her cheerily. "Like I said, they're expensive, but it's worth it not to have to spit so many seeds out."
"Huh – must have happened during the ten years I was in Rutledge," Alice said, locating the red sauce, then scooting around Victor so she could carry the jars to the table. Victor stepped out of her way, then spotted the powdered sugar on another shelf and grabbed it. "Perhaps one day you can introduce me to one of these new bananas – provided it doesn't break anyone's wallet, of course."
"Money is there to be used to make people happy," Mrs. Alton declared, seasoning the last piece of eggy toast with salt and pepper. She grinned at Victor as he approached with the sugar. "Would you like to sugar everyone else's toast? The plates are right there."
Victor looked at the neat row of toast slices. "I – I'll probably get more sugar on myself than the toast," he hedged.
Mrs. Alton's smile never wavered. "Probably – but isn't that part of the fun?"
Gods, it was so odd how different Smiler's parents were to his...but it was nice too. Really, really nice if Victor was honest with himself. Might as well make the most of it – I certainly won't be allowed to sugar my own eggy toast after today, he thought, smiling back. Hopefully I can come back for a visit sometime. "All right then."
"That's the spirit! So the sifter's over there in that drawer…"
