1074 - As if in a dream, Hallie walks toward David. Even her hair is done in period style, complex ringlets galore. She wanders past David, up onto the gazebo. Who are you? he asks. The wind blows strongly, messing their hair. Hallie? asks David. She suddenly seems to come withdraw from her trance and asks, David, what am I doing in this dress?-and doing here? He stares at her--you wrote me a note to meet you here, he explains-and hands it to her to examine. I didn't write it, she says. What kind of game is this? he asks.
I didn't write it, repeats Hallie. I know your handwriting, he says. It's different, she says. It is sort of different, he agrees, looking at the note again, a little old-fashioned looking. She turns to him and asks, tears in her voice, who wrote it? You didn't, he says-then how did you know to come? I don't know, she says, I don't. I was going to bed when I saw this dress-it's the dress from your dream, isn't it? Yes, he nods, where did you get it? It was lying on my bed, she says. No, says David, after I described it to you, you must have gone and got it someplace. No, she says, it was lying on my bed before you ever had that dream. Hallie! he objects in disbelief. It's true! she says. How can I have a dream about a dress I've never seen, he asks, a dress that's real? She shakes her head--I don't know. It's crazy, he says. Everything is, she responds-my coming here-David, I didn't know where I was going when I left the house, but when I came to the gazebo, I knew-this is where I was meant to come-I wasn't even surprised to see you-oh, David! Somebody else wanted you here, guesses David. WHO? she asks. I don't know, he replies, but I'm going to stick around and find out. She sits beside him on the bench and says, I don't think we should ever find out. We have to, he insists. No, she says-remember this afternoon when we were here, and I felt someone watching us?-someone was-I don't know who, but it wasn't anyone real. It's a mystery, says David, and I like mysteries. But we're part of it, she reminds him, don't you see, we're part of the mystery. She stands-do you smell lilacs? She asks. Lilacs bloom in the spring, everybody knows that, he says. Don't you smell them? she demands. Yes, he says, I do! About to take flight, she implores him, don't stay here. I'm going to find out who wrote this note, he says. Don't! she begs, and runs off. David, clearly nervous, stands in the gazebo, looking around, asking, "Are you here? Are you?" (Does this clothing thing remind anyone of the games Amy and David used to play with Quentin and Beth?)
Carolyn, looking over the newspaper, reads her horoscope to her mother, who is knitting: "Forebodings of disaster: beware of sudden meetings and unexpected shocks-conserve your energies for a more fruitful day"-I think I'll stay in bed, decides Carolyn, putting the newspaper on the table. Do you believe in those things? asks Liz. Carolyn laughs-ask me tomorrow night, she chuckles. I mean it, says Liz. I don't really much believe in anything, says Carolyn-a horoscope seems about as good as anything else. Hallie sneaks into the house and runs upstairs. That's a very cynical attitude, remarks Liz-you've gotten very cynical. Carolyn, annoyed, says, you sound as if you think there's some pill I can take for it. Liz apologizes--I know how distressed you've been since Jeb died. I don't want to discuss Jeb, says Carolyn. I think perhaps we should, says Liz-then you might not brood so much. No, says Carolyn, I'd just remember him more-I find myself waiting for him to walk through that door-and I'm the one person talking doesn't really help. She kisses her mother good night. Liz picks up the newspaper and reads the horoscopes.
Why? a spooked Hallie asks herself in her bedroom mirror. Carolyn enters. "Hallie!" she cries, shocked to see the girl in the old-fashioned dress.
Where did you get the dress? asks Carolyn. I found it, the girl lies, in a trunk upstairs. And you got up in the middle of the night to put it on? asks Carolyn. Yes, says Hallie, her voice shaky, I don't know why I did it. Of course you do, smiles Carolyn. Yes, you're right, says Hallie, I was lying in bed, really not sleeping, and started thinking about the dress, and I bet myself it would fit me, and it does, just as if it were made for me. Hearing Hallie's voice suddenly forced, too happy, Carolyn asks, is everything all right? I have trouble sleeping sometimes, the girl admits. So did I, says Carolyn. I really have to stop thinking about the accident, says Hallie. Yes, agrees Carolyn, you must remember your mother and father when they were alive, when you were happy together-I know, I've lost someone I loved very much, too. Carolyn, begins Hallie, about, perhaps, to confess, then says, I think I'll be able to sleep now. If I can help you with anything, let me know, incites Carolyn. She kisses Hallie's forehead and leave the room. Why didn't I tell her? frets Hallie aloud-why?
David sits on the bench at the gazebo. What's the point of staying here? he wonders-nobody's going to come. He rises, then decides to wait just a little longer. He walks to the other side of the gazebo and gazes out into the darkness.
Hallie dreams: Her bedroom door opens by itself. She sits up in bed and walks toward it. David, wearing 18th century clothing, enters. What are you doing in those clothes? she asks. He doesn't answer. What's wrong? she asks-why don't you answer me, David? A woman enters the room, the dark-haired ghost we know as Daphne. Who is she? asks Hallie-David, who is she? Daphne beckons to Hallie to join them. Hallie refuses--stay away from me, I don't know you, stay away! Hallie screams as the woman approaches her.
David is about to leave the gazebo when he again smells lilacs. The ghost of Daphne appears to him. Who are you? he asks. She disappears immediately. He goes to stand on the spot where she stood.
David enters Hallie's bedroom and sits on her bed--I saw the woman wearing a long, long dress, he says-I think she's the one who wrote the note. Does she have dark hair? asks Hallie. Yes, why? asks David. I just wondered, says Hallie hesitantly. There's got to be a reason, he insists, what is it? There is no reason, says Hallie-what does she want from us, who is she? I don't know, he says, she didn't speak, but when I walked to her, she disappeared-she was a ghost, Hallie--the funny thing was, I wasn't scared, I was calm. She nods. Why aren't you surprised? he asks, I thought you'd be surprised-why aren't you? Liz enters-David, why are you up at this hour? she demands, and still dressed-what is he doing here? (heh heh heh, Liz, if this were any other soap...) I'm planning something, he says. (Check his pockets for condoms, Aunt Liz!) What? she asks. What Hallie and I are going to do tomorrow, he says. What is it? she asks. He leaves in a huff-I'm old enough to have a secret or two, he complains. David! chastises Liz-Hallie, I'm sorry David disturbed you. It's all right, says Hallie. No it isn't and you mustn't let him, says Liz, kissing Hallie good night. Hallie looks unhappy.
Morning - Liz and Carolyn are having their morning beverage in the drawing room.- Carolyn describes to her mother, I found Hallie wearing a very old-fashioned looking dress, one she found in the attic. It does seem an odd time to dress up, remarks Liz. Exactly, agrees Carolyn--Mother, Barnabas said that whatever happened here had something to do with David and Hallie. I don't think getting into an old-fashioned dress can cause what Barnabas is talking about, says Liz. (Let's not forget Quentin and Amy and David's little dress-up sessions, folks.) There's a knock at the door. Are you expecting someone? asks Carolyn. No, answers Liz. Carolyn volunteers to get it. Liz picks up and opens the astrology book Sebastian Shaw gave her. Carolyn opens the door and is stunned. No! she cries, staring at Shaw, who is the image of her dead husband.
"Jeb," murders Carolyn, "it can't be Jeb." You're quite right, says Shaw, I'm not Jeb. Liz joins her daughter at the door and introduces Carolyn to Sebastian Shaw. I'm sorry, moans Carolyn, and runs from the room. Liz calls after her. "Mother, leave me alone!" wails Carolyn. You shouldn't have come here, Liz tells the perplexed Shaw. I certainly didn't expect this kind of effect. You resemble my daughter's late husband, explains Liz. Oh, says Shaw, I am sorry. You had no way of knowing-it's not your fault, says Liz--come in. He opens a large purse hanging on his shoulder and takes out her horoscope-figured from this day until December 31, 1970. She asks him into the drawing room and closes the doors. It's a day by day analysis of what the stars and planets have in store for you, says Shaw. She looks fearfully at the folder he holds--tell me what it says, she asks. No, he says, if I did that, I'd be here all day long. Does it say whether I'll live through a disaster? she asks anxiously-will David, my nephew, be all right?-is there any sign we're going to lave Collinwood? No, he says, after a deliberate pause. Thank God, sighs Liz, taking the folder from him. It was an interesting sign to draw up, he says, your sign is Pisces, which is very fortunate-Neptune in Pisces, the ruling planet of Pisces, and there was one very curious thing-you seem to have a propensity for the occult-although under adverse circumstances, Neptune may interfere with your psychic powers.
I have no psychic powers, says Liz. Oh yes we do, says Shaw, we all do, intuition borders on the psychic, and during this period you might find Neptune interfering with your intuitive gifts-it's just a word of warning, that's all. I see, says Liz. Read it, come and call me, he says, I'll be happy to discuss it with you. Fix a price, she asks, sitting at her desk. Please don't make a shopkeeper out of me, he insists. You're a very strange young man, she says, taking out her checkbook. I also have my values, he protests-and yes, one more thing about the horoscope-I'm not infallible, and you might find out one day your experiences are quite different from what the horoscope is telling you-come to me, I'll catch whatever mistake I made, and adjust the rest of horoscope. She writes out a check and asks, "You'd be willing to do that?" He leans over her and says, you might have come to me as a whim, but charting the future isn't a whim with me. She hands him the check. He looks at it, folds it over and says, I'm sure I can be of future service to you (and her checkbook, I bet). He bids her goodbye, gives her an enigmatic smile, and departs.
David and Hallie sit on the bed in her room, going over some letters David found in a trunk in the attic. One, he points out, has the same handwriting that was on last night's note. The writing that looks like mine, she says. This one is dated 1840, says David, holding up one of the letters. Hallie wonders--how could someone back then write like I do now? He hands her another letter. "The handwriting looks like yours!" she says. Yeah, but it's got a lot of strange curlicues on it, scoffs David. Hallie reads, "Where Abner Collins frowns, warning all not to enter, I will meet you tonight." Who is Abner Collins? she asks. Some dead relative, replies David. (LOL) "Come to the playroom if you value your life," reads Hallie. There is no playroom, says David. Is there a picture of Abner Collins? she asks. Yes, in one of the back halls, says David-let's go find it! Why? she asks. Maybe there's a room I don't know about! he says excitedly. No, says Hallie. You want to know about the playroom, and about that lady from last night, he reminds her. They head off together.
They find Abner's portrait, located next to a door. David puts his hand on the doorknob, flippantly promising--to show you what hasn't been seen... Don't joke, David, she says, dead serious...what hasn't been seen by the human eye in over a hundred and thirty years, he continues, and opens the door. A closet, she says, disappointed. It isn't big enough to be a playroom, opines David-unless they had small children-he grins at her. The carousel music begins to play. David puts his ear to the wall--it sounds like it's coming from behind it, he says. Hallie, frightened, says, I don't like it, let's get out of here. She runs out; he follows. They can still hear the music, and both smell lilacs, too. Daphne's ghost appears, beckoning them. Hallie, terrified, runs off. Wait! calls David, and follows. Daphne's ghost disappears, as does the linen closet, and in its place is the now-familiar playroom, the carousel turning and playing the same tune
NOTES: Does Daphne mean ill or good for Hallie and David? It's hard to tell right now, she just beckons to them to come to her. Since Kate Jackson couldn't say any lines because she was still attending acting school, her character had to be silent. She doesn't seem malevolent, does she?
So we have handwriting on old letters that, save for fancy curlicues, looks just like Hallie and David's. What's the meaning of that? Are they to be possessed by ghosts? This would be the umpteenth time for poor David.
I love the new David. He's always been ballsy, but now he's talking back to the adults in his life who have always tried to push him around. He can have all the secrets he wants, and heck, if he wants to sit on Hallie's bed and talk ghosts, dresses and letters, that's his business! I love the way he teases Hallie. They don't seem like teens of any era, but DS, to me, was a parallel universe, and I never expected anyone to be like they were in mine. Nothing was required to make sense, be contiguous or jive with earlier history.
The playroom is there, all right, like a ghost in and of itself. Creepy, isn't it?
Poor Carolyn. Of all the 12 faces in the world, a guy has to show up on her doorstep who looks exactly like Jeb. She can't get a break, can she?
Liz is so uncertain about her future, she's consulted with what appears to be a shady guy in Sebastian Shaw. Is he on the level? Does he really have talent for this, or is he just after Liz' checks while making it appear he isn't interested in money at all? Notice how he covered his butt by saying his predictions might not come to pass, and he'll just have to come "adjust" them accordingly. Doesn't Liz smell anything odd here? The odor of Jason McGuire, perhaps? Or is she just too wrapped up in her fears?
Lots of mysteries, interesting ones, and if Hallie and David should be making out rather than chasing ghosts, who am I to judge? : )
1075 - Hallie and David run into his room. You saw her, too--admit it, demands Hallie. If only it wasn't so dark, says David. She's the same woman I saw in my dream, the same woman from the gazebo, says Hallie, I'm sure of it. So what if she was? asks David. She's a ghost, doesn't that scare you? asks Hallie. A little, says David. You're as frightened as I am, she accuses, don't pretend you're not. Stop talking for a minute, orders David, I'm trying to think something out. Let's figure out who she is and what she's doing here, says Hallie. We know she has something to do with the playroom, music and scent of lilacs, calculates David. That doesn't tell us who she is, says Hallie, what she's doing here. There may be a way to find out, says David--we have to find out where the music is coming from, where the playroom is--we need a lot more clues. He goes to his desk, removes the letters they found, and glances through them. He hands a bunch of crumpled up letters to Hallie--do you want to find this out or not? he asks. Cringing, she reluctantly takes and begins to read them.
Julia and Barnabas are going through massive tomes down in the drawing room. After all our research, complains Barn, the only things wey've been able to find out are Tad and Carrie's dates of birth and death. This can mean a great deal says Julia--Carrie and Tad died at about the same age that David and Hallie are now. We've got to find much, much more, insists Barnabas. So far, we haven't come up with much, agrees Julia. At least the fact that they both died at the same time warranted some explanation, he says. Try to remember that the Collins family history isn't famous for accuracy, says Julia--I mean, what happened to you was important, and you were deliberately omitted. The fact that so little was written about them, says Barnabas, would indicate that something unusual happened to them. Possible, says Julia. Quentin comes in and says, "Still pouring over the family history, eh?" Yes, and no success, says Julia. I don't know whether admire your tenacity or be exasperated by your stubbornness, he remarks. Julia massages her neck--at the moment, she says, I'll settle for sympathy for my stiff neck. Seriously, says Q, I wish there was something I could do. At least you're not accusing us of outright madness, says Barnabas. Quentin opens the window and gazes out--I'm not sure that's necessarily virtuous of me, says Quentin. What are you looking at? asks Julia. The moon, says Quentin. The moon? asks a shocked Barnabas, exchanging looks with Julia (they're side by side on the sofa now; Barn was in a separate chair earlier in the scene). It's full tonight, says Quentin. Julia rises and goes over to him. Barnabas rises and stands back. Julia looks at the full moon, too, then at Quentin, and asks, are you all right, or in any danger? No, the portrait is secure, he assures her, no, I was just thinking about Chris--I hated to see him, Sabrina and Amy go away like they did--I can't help thinking about what may be happening to them--especially on a night like this. Poor man, says Julia, shaking her head--that poor woman. I forget how fortunate I really am, says Quentin, these small pleasures like tonight--I can enjoy the eclipse tonight with the same joy and wonderment I did when I was a kid--there's a total eclipse of the moon tonight. Barnabas and Julia sit back on the sofa again. Quentin jovially asks, can I persuade you two to drop what you're doing and come watch the eclipse in the tower room this evening? We'd better continue working; says Barn, we may come up with something. I'll let you know when the eclipse has its big moment, says Quentin, at least perhaps you can take time out then. Perhaps, responds Julia, distracted. There's something a little mysterious and frightening about the moon going totally dark when the earth's shadow crosses s over it, says Quentin. This observation makes Barnabas look up from his book. I suppose so, says Julia. Quentin leaves. Barnabas rises and asks, Julia, did you hear what Quentin just said? Something about the eclipse affecting him, says Julia. Tonight the moon goes dark, says Barnabas, as the earth goes between it and the sun--do you remember the first clue that Carolyn wrote, that tells us when the disaster will take place--the night of the sun and the moon--that night, Julia, is tonight! Julia's eyes widen.
Julia rises from the sofa--what are we going to do? she asks. If we at least knew what was going to happen, we could try to prevent it, he laments. But we don't, she reminds him, concerned. The first thing we must do is ensure Hallie and David are all right, says Barn. Don't you think we should tell them, just in case they see anything unusual? Elizabeth wouldn't allow that, he says. It's for their own good, she points out. What are we going to tell them? asks Barnabas--that they're going to die and come back as some mysterious ghosts to haunt Collinwood?--we can't do that. Can I hint to them they that might look for something? asks Julia. Of course, says Barnabas, by all means. Julia looks out the window
--it's beginning, she says--the shadow already touching the moon. Barnabas looks up to see the beginning of the eclipse. Julia leaves the room.
David and Hallie are studying the letters. Here's one you wrote, he says. David, I did not write these letters and neither did you, she counters. You know what I mean, he says, some of them look like you wrote them, some look like I wrote them--this one just happens to look like you wrote it: "When you hear the carousel play, please come into the room"--but where is the room?--the portrait of Abner Collins didn't find it for us. Tomorrow, reads Hallie, the sun will shine on Rose Cottage. Rose Cottage, repeats David, it's not on the grounds--keep looking for the ones that talk about the playroom. Here's another about Rose Cottage, says Hallie. Just the playroom, reiterates David, I don't care about the cottage. Hallie ignores him--listen, she says: Tonight I will tell you who is going to live in Rose Cottage. Just the ones that tell about the playroom, says David. Here's one that looks like I wrote it, says David: Don't ride on the carousel too long, it can be dangerous--what does that mean. Hallie asks, are you sure we're playing a game? Of course, says David. But if it is a game, then who's playing it with us? asks Hallie. SHE is, of course, says David. Hallie looks scared.
All right, so she is playing it, says Hallie, but we don't know why. For the fun of it, says David. I'm not so sure, says Hallie. What do you have against doing something different for a change? asks David--just keep reading the letters. There's a knock at the door. They hastily shuffle all the letters back into the desk. Julia asks to come in. By the time she enters, the kids are reading textbooks. She smiles at them--Hallie, she says, I was looking for you but couldn't find you. Maggie gave us an extra lesson because we've been so lazy all summer, she explains. Is there anything you want? David asks Julia.
Do you want to go sailing tomorrow? asks Julia (horseback riding, sailing, they have the life, huh?) I'll talk to Maggie. She won't let us, says Hallie, she told us today, no more time away from lessons unless there's a lot of improvement. Julia, puzzled, says, I'm very sorry about that--is everything all right? Sure, says David, thumbing through the textbook. Have you noticed anything unusual going on around the house? asks Julia. I haven't, says David, have you, Hallie? No, she says--did you have anything particular in mind, Dr. Hoffman? No, I suppose I was just reacting to the eclipse, says Julia. Eclipse? asks Hallie. Didn't Maggie tell you about it? asks Julia--there's an eclipse of the moon tonight. We forgot, says David, thanks for reminding us. Do you want to come watch it with me and Quentin? No thanks, says David, it is rather boring watching a shadow cross the moon--and it takes so long--I'd better stick to my studying. Why don't I come here later when the moon is fully gone and let you know? says Julia. That will be after midnight and we're supposed to be asleep, says Hallie. But this is something special, smiles Julia. I really think we'd better study, says Hallie. Thanks anyway, says David All right then, she says, giving them one final glance before leaving the room. David locks the door. (If I heard that door locking and I were Julia, I'd have come back knocking. Leaving those two hormone-changed teens alone in a locked bedroom together? Noooooo!)
Drawing room - Quentin repeats, "The night of the sun and the moon." That's all Carolyn wrote, explains Barnabas--I'm sure she meant tonight. What do you think we ought to do? asks Quentin. Julia has gone upstairs to see if the children are all right, says Barn, but I feel they should be gotten out of Collinwood immediately, for their safety. Impossible, says Quentin, pouring himself a drink--I may believe that, bit Elizabeth never will. She must be made to understand, insists Barnabas. Quentin downs a healthy swig. Are we to stand around waiting for the second clue to take place? asks Barn. What would that be? asks Q. Again, it's cryptic, says Barnabas, says an unfinished horoscope. Barnabas, says Quentin, are you sure of that? Yes, says Barnabas, positive. Do you know why Liz won't send the children away? queries Quentin. Because she doesn't want to frighten them, guesses Barn. . More than that, says Quentin, she is convinced that for the remainder of the year, nothing will go wrong here at Collinwood. That's a rather dangerous assumption, opines Barnabas. She's convinced of that because she just had an astrologer draw up her horoscope! reveals Quentin. Barnabas regards his cousin with alarm.
That's the next clue, says Barn--the unfinished horoscope. I saw the finished chart in Liz' room, says Q. No disaster was mentioned? asks Barnabas. Completely the opposite, says Quentin, it states that Collinwood is to come under a siege of unrelieved tranquility. It must be unfinished, says Barnabas--where is Elizabeth? She went to Portland for a day or two, answers Quentin. I wish she were here, frets Barnabas, I want to tell her there's danger for the entire house.
She would probably disregard the horoscope as having anything to do with the sun and the moon, predicts Quentin, and she'd also say it's not unfinished, it's absolutely complete. Then something must happen to Hallie, David or somebody else before she'll even listen, says Barn. Julia joins them. Did you see the children? asks Quentin. I did, she says, but I'm not sure they're all right; it's just an instinct, but I felt they were hiding something from me, but I don't know what--their whole manner was too casual. But it isn't unusual for kids their age to keep secrets to themselves, says Quentin. I have a respect for their privacy, agrees Barnabas, but this is no time for them to keep secrets. The only thing they can do tonight is watch over them, says Julia. I'll go look in on them, volunteers Quentin, I don't share your fears, but don't think we should take a chance, either. He leaves the room. Julia looks out the window at the moon--it's half dark, she notes--I wonder when the next clue will be. Barnabas solemnly says, I'm afraid it won't be very long from now.
David's room - Quentin opens the door and gazes down at the sleeping David. He draws another cover over him, turns and leaves, closing the door behind him. David, fully dressed, not asleep, gets out of bed and exits his room. He meets a fully-dressed Hallie in the hallway, who says, Quentin checked on me, too, a few minutes ago. They walk off together.
Drawing room - Quentin does have a point, Barnabas, says Julia--Elizabeth's horoscope IS finished. It's funny, notes Barn, that someone in this house was in touch with an astrologer. Quentin joins them--the kids are sound asleep, he says. Is it possible we've been wrong? suggests Julia, perhaps this isn't the night of the sun and the moon, but something else. I wish it were, says Barnabas, but in any case, we must keep close watch tonight--whatever is going to happen might not happen to the children, it could happen to anyone. I wish this eclipse were over, frets Julia. Quentin checks out the window--it's almost covering it now, he announces--the eclipse should be complete in a few minutes. The kids arrive at the playroom door--this has got to be the place, says David--we shouldn't have run away before--read me the note again. It's so dark I can hardly see it, says Hallie--look, David, there's no light coming through the window. It's the eclipse! says David.
Barnabas, Julia and Quentin gazes out the window--the moon is completely covered.
Hallie and David hear the music. What does the note say? asks Davids. She reads, "When the music ends, the play begins." I wish it would make more sense, he says. I'm getting frightened again, says Hallie--I can't help it. I think the music is coming from behind this door, says David, his hands on the door. The music stops. Hallie wonders why. When the music ends, repeats David, the play begins--something else has got to happen--what? I don't think anything is going to happen, says Hallie--I want to go back and return tomorrow and look--I'm gong! She walks away. Wait, urges David. The playroom door abruptly opens, but it's not a closet anymore--it's the playroom, and the carousel is turning, churning out the music.
NOTES: The ghostly playroom has appeared to the children now, and we can assume the "play" is going to begin. The odd thing is, we sense that Shaw's horoscope for Liz is not only unfinished, but bogus, because he isn't so much interested in telling her the future, but in draining her bank account. So Liz' horoscope isn't what it seems at all.
Julia has to know that something is really weird with the kids if they prefer to study rather than go sailboating with her. They aren't behaving like normal kids at all, not even for Collinwood!
We learn, through one sentence of dialogue, that Chris, Sabrina and Amy have left Collinsport. Considering they were part of a major storyline, this seems wrong. Of course, it is right for Quentin to see a full moon and wonder what's going on with his blood relative. It just seemed such a shuffle-off for such important characters.
Given how frightened Julia and Barnabas are for the kids' safety, I think I'd just kidnap them, if necessary. Julia seems to be doubting what they learned in 1995 now, just because Quentin says Liz' horoscope is finished. Nothing is what it seems, and they have to keep that in mind at all times.
I liked the scene where the adults are gazing out at the total eclipse of the moon while the kids, who have completely fooled them, are dressed, in the hallway, and discovering the ghostly playroom. Quentin, Julia and Barnabas are truly clueless here, concerned though they may be.
It's sweet how much Quentin loves the kids. The way he stared down at David before adding another cover was lovely. He never got the chance to be a father to either of his own kids, so one senses he's adopted David, Amy and Hallie as his own surrogate children.
Love, Robin
