. . .

“Maybe she already told us,” says Linus.

“Seriously?” says Tom.

“She sang,” says Edmund, softly, “of raindrops on flowers and the whiskers of kittens.”

“She did,” says Jane, declining to recite any more of the song in a low, thoughtful voice owing to potential copyright considerations.

“Brown paper packages,” says Linus, as if picking up on her unstated thoughts —

“Like the brown paper packages in Amelia’s study!” says Jane.

“That song,” says Tom. “That whole movie. It’s not just the delightful musical stylings of a woman desperately trying to escape incarceration at the hands of nuns and Nazis — it’s a grim prognostication of the Fan Hoeng princess that was to come!”

“No wonder Alhazred Smithee insisted they strike his name from the writers’ credits,” whispers Linus.

“And the ingredients!” Jane says. “The song! The list of things!”

Together, they say: “A recipe!”

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