Raven
approaches the front door of Edward and Mary's house, the
house, reaching forward to grasp the handle. He's about to twist it
and throw the door open when something causes him to pause.
“Raven is at the door,” Curly announces, to nobody present, and
everybody who matters, both at the same time.
Raven stands there, hand on handle, totally still. Has some notion
flowered in the recesses of his mind, some idea that thwarts his
purpose in entering the house? Has he heard something not audible to
the natural ear, some sound that makes him think? Has he seen
something out of view, a scene that stays his hand?
Whatever it is that causes him to linger, the moment quickly passes.
He shakes his head violently, as if clearing it of smog and dust.
“I hope our friends are ready,” he says to Curly, then removes
his hand from the door and knocks politely.
Rat-a-tat-tat.
