. . .

“Let’s hunt those kettles and mittens down.”

“And the packages!” Linus adds.

“Yes,” says Tom thoughtfully. “Brown paper packages, tied with a string — opium, maybe?”

“That is not one of Maria’s favorite things,” Jane lectures sternly.

“I’m just saying!”

“It’s probably alchemical stuff,” Jane says. “Mercury and whatnot.”

“Oh, God,” says Tom. “(Sorry, Linus.) I don’t want to drink mercury!”

“It’ll put hair on your chest,” Edmund says.

Tom snorts.

The Doom Team sneaks out through the halls. They skulk through the house. It is mysteriously empty. Finally they approach the kitchen.

The entire house supply of kettles and mittens sits in a pile in the middle of the kitchen.

Maria slouches against the wall. Her gunbrella is by her side.

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