Frigate and Lefkowitz burst out laughing. Burton said, “You cook?”
“Why, yes,” Sophie said. “I like to cook. When it’s not required of me, that is. I was making our dinner last night, and I forgot to watch the souffle. I was reading a book, and …”
They started talking about food and that led to other subjects and finally to dinner. Eating together was a custom more ancient than conversation.
26
On Christmas Day, many guests stood before the door of Turpinworld. Burton was not the only one surprised at the number of Gull’s companions. There were forty at least, all Dowists whom Gull had known in The Valley. They looked Roman in their long white togas and sandals, but it was unlikely that Romans had ever worn headbands with a big aluminum D.
“D,” Gull said. “D for Dow and Deliverance. D for Deus, too.”
“Death and Damnation also begin with D,” someone muttered.
Gull was not affronted or, at least, did not seem to be so. “True, my friend, whoever you are,” he said dignifiedly. “Death and Damnation for those who do not follow the true way.”
“Disgusting,” the same voice said.
“Drivel,” someone else said.
“Dangerously Dubious,” a third person said.
“Devastating Dung!”
“We are used to insults and ill-considered rebukes for ‘A, double-L,-part people,’ ” Gull said. “But Grace abounding is always offered to the chief of sinners.”
“What the hell does ‘A, double-L part’ mean?” a woman said softly.
“I do not know,” Burton said. “It doesn’t mean ‘All-part,’ as you might think. Gull and his followers refuse to define it. They say that when you understand it, then Grace has come to you and you are one of them.”
“It was a pejorative often used by Lorenzo Dow to describe his enemies,” Frigate said. “It wasn’t much of a description, though it certainly sounds ominous, since his enemies never understood it.”
De Marbot muttered, “It was a mistake to invite them. You can’t carry on a decent conversation with them. They want only to convert you. Tom should have known better.”
“Who resurrected Gull?” Sophie said. “No one in her right mind would.”
“No one knows,” Burton said. “I asked the Computer for the identity of the person who had raised Gull, Netley, Crook, Stride and Kelly, but it replied that the datum was available to only one person. It didn’t say to whom.”
A face appeared in the glowing circle on the door. “Santa Claus!” Frigate cried.
The man wore a big red stocking cap trimmed with white fur, and he had a huge bushy white beard. His skin was rather dark for the conventional St. Nick, however.
Turpin said, “Yeah, I’m Santa Claus. Tom Ho-Ho-Ho! Turpin hisself to be more exact.”
“Merry Christmas!” several shouted.
“And a Merry Christmas to you, too!” Turpin said. “We also got plenty of snow, folks, but it ain’t what you’re used to. At least, I think it ain’t. You’re such good folks, ho, ho, ho!”
The door swung open, and there was a jam-up as those in front tried to get their flying chairs through at the same time. These were Li Po and his group, most of them loaded three feet below their Plimsoll line with liquors of various kinds. They had never heard of Christmas until Turpin’s invitation, but they were eager to learn about it. After some struggling and good-natured cursing, Li Po got them organized, and they entered one at a time. Burton and his companions went next. The Dowists followed them; they had waited politely for the first two groups at Gull’s command. Burton noted that they were trading glances of disdain and sorrow with one another. Evidently, they did not care for the boisterous behavior of the Chinese.
Behind the Dowists were Stride, Kelly and Crook, dressed in elegant if somewhat flashy Victorian gowns and wearing diamond earrings and many rings bearing huge diamonds, emeralds and sapphires. He was not surprised to see unfamiliar male faces with them. Annie Crook was accompanied by one man; the other women had a man on each arm.
About twenty feet behind them was Netley, dressed like a race tout, gleaming with jewelry, with a woman clinging to each of his arms.