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It’s Beginning to Look a Lot
Like Christmas
In the back room of the Raven, Nick and Janette were opening the day’s mail.
Cardinals and snow, fir trees and poinsettias all passed muster, more or
less, depending on the quality of the art. Occasionally, a vampire finger
was snatched back hastily from a sizzling star-and-manger or Three Wise Men.
“Bah, humbug!” said Lacroix. He left the club—knowing precisely the
effect those words had—and flew to CERK, where he gave a Nightcrawler
broadcast that was scathing on the subject of tawdry sentimentality.
His own mantel still was empty of cards from his Cousins, and he wondered
why.
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