Clothes!  Arthur had gotten it right, then.  He was proud of himself for remembering, warm and happy despite the dark and dismal cellar room they found themselves in.  Even more so when Malachi wrapped his arms around him, and Arthur did not hesitate even a second before returning the gesture.

"No," he answered, "but let's go anyway.  Dinner waits for no one."

Still, he held onto Malachi for another long moment before pulling away, just far enough to take his hand again.  With the other, he picked up the candlestick Malachi had set down and gave the room around them one last look over before moving back towards the door.

Dinner waited for them, along with the bright sun beyond the rickety ladder.  After the pure darkness of the cellar, the sun seemed unbearable - no wonder Malachi squinted against it so much.

Arthur put out and se the candle holder down before climbing up the ladder and resurfacing onto green grass.  He leaned back over to help Malachi up and dusted himself off, immensely grateful for the clear air in the garden.

casually, he asked, "Are you familiar with the poet, Edgar Allen Poe, darling?"