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〃Therefore I ask you： who is this child that brandishes a sword； forces women to draw his war chariot through a difficult forest； then slaughters them as if they were guilty of treason？〃
He waits； as if preparing to deliver the answer； but instead says； 〃Solve this； and you will begin to understand the hidden truth of the Hypnerotomachia。 Perhaps you will also begin to understand the significance not only of death； but of the form death takes when it es。 All of us…we of faith and we who lack it…are too accustomed to the sign of the cross to understand the significance of the crucifix。 But religion； Christianity in particular； has always been the story of death in the midst of life； of sacrifices and martyrs。 Tonight； of all nights； as we memorate the sacrifice of the most famous of those martyrs； it is a fact we should be loath to forget。〃
Removing his glasses； and folding them into his breast pocket； Taft tips his head and says； 〃I entrust you with this； and place my faith in you。〃 With a plodding step back； he adds； 〃Thank you all； and good night。〃
Applause erupts from every corner of the hall…at first awkwardly； but soon to a heavy crescendo。 Despite the earlier interruption； the audience has been seduced by this strange man； mesmerized by his fusion of intellect and gore。
Taft nods his head and shuffles toward the table by the podium； meaning to sit down； but the applause continues。 Some in the audience take to their feet； continuing to clap。
〃Thank you；〃 he says again； still standing； hands pressed atop the back of his chair。 Even as he speaks； the old smile returns to his features。 It's as if he has been watching the audience all along； never the other way around。
Professor Henderson rises and strides toward the lectern； silencing the applause。
〃By tradition；〃 she says； 〃we will be offering refreshments this evening in the courtyard between this auditorium and the chapel。 I understand that the maintenance and ground crews have set up a number of space heaters beneath the tables。 Please e out to join us。〃
Turning to Taft； she adds； 〃That said； let me thank Dr。 Taft for such a memorable lecture。 You certainly made quite an impression。〃 She smiles； but with a certain restraint。
The audience applauds again； then slowly begins to filter through the exit。
Taft watches it do so； and I in turn watch him。 This is one of the few times I have ever seen the man； recluse that he is。 Now I finally understand why Paul finds him so magnetic。 Even when you know he's making a game of you； it's almost impossible to take your eyes off him。
Slowly Taft begins to hulk across the stage。 As the white screen mechanically retracts into a slot in the ceiling； the three slides bee a whisper of gray over the blackboards beyond。 I can barely make out the wild animals devouring the women's remains； the child floating off into the air。
〃You ing？〃 Charlie asks； lingering behind Gil by the exit。
I hurry after them。
Chapter 11
〃You couldn't find Paul？〃 Charlie asks once I've caught up。
〃He didn't want my help。〃
But when I mention what I overheard outside； Charlie looks at me as if I shouldn't have let him go。 Someone stops beside us to greet Gil； and Charlie turns to me。
〃Did Paul go after Curry？〃 he asks。
I shake my head。 〃Bill Stein。〃
〃Are you guys ing to the reception？〃 Gil calls out； sensing a quick getaway。 〃We could use the turnout。〃
〃Sure；〃 I say； and Gil seems pacified。 His mind is elsewhere； we're returning to his element。
〃We'll have to avoid Jack Parlow and Kelly…they only want to talk about the ball；〃 he says； returning to our sides。 〃But it shouldn't be bad。〃
He leads us down the steps into the pale blue courtyard； where all the tracks Curry and Paul made in the snow have blown over。 The tents are brimming with students； and almost immediately I remember how futile it is trying to avoid anyone with Gil around。 We march through the snow to a canopy almost beneath the chapel； but he exerts an inescapable social gravity。
First to e is the blond girl from the door。
〃Tara； how are you？〃 Gil says graciously when she arrives beneath the canvas roof。 〃A lot more excitement than you were expecting； huh？〃
Charlie has no interest in her pany。 To avoid a scene； he concerns himself at the table； where the silver dispensers are warming fresh hot chocolate。
〃Tara；〃 Gil says； 〃you know Tom； don't you？〃
She finds a polite way of saying she doesn't。
〃Ah； well；〃 Gil says lightly。 〃Different classes。〃
It takes me a second to realize he's referring to sophomores and seniors。
〃Tom； this is Tara Pierson； a member of the 2001 section；〃 he continues； seeing that Charlie is avoiding us。 〃Tara； this is my good friend Tom Sullivan。〃
The introduction serves only to embarrass。 No sooner has Gil finished speaking than Tara finds a moment when we can talk out of his sight and points at Charlie。
〃I'm so sorry about what I said to your friend back there；〃 she begins。 〃I had no idea who you guys were。 。 。 。〃
And on； and on。 Her point seems to be that we deserve better treatment than the other nobodies she's never met because Gil and I brush our teeth over the same sink。 The longer she talks； the more I wonder how she wasn't laughed out of Ivy。 There is a legend…true or not； I don't know…that sophomores like Tara； who have nothing to remend them but their looks； sometimes find their way into the membership thanks to a special process called 〃third…floor bicker。〃 They're invited up to the secretive third floor of the club and told that they won't be admitted without some special show of willingness。 I can only guess at the exact nature of the deed； and Gil； of course； denies that anything like this process even exists。 But I suppose that's the magic of a myth like third…floor bicker： the more unspoken it's left； the more unspeakable it bees。
Tara must guess what I'm thinking； or maybe she just notices I'm not paying attention anymore； because she finally es up with some excuse and minces off into the snow。 Good riddance； I think； watching her slink over to another tent； hair flopping in the wind。
I spot Katie。 She's standing by the outer edge of the tent on the opposite side； tired of talking。 The cup of hot chocolate in her hand is still steaming； and her camera is strung around her neck like a charm。 It takes me a second to figure out what she's looking at。 A few months ago； I would've suspected the worst； searching for the elusive other man in her life； the one who found time for her when I spent nights with the Hypnerotomachia。 Now I know better。 It's just the chapel she's fixed in her sights。 It looms like a cliff at the edge of a white sea； a photographer's dream。
There's a curious thing about attraction； something I'm only starting to learn。 The first time I met Katie； I thought one look at her would stop traffic。 Not everyone agreed with me （Charlie； preferring meatier women； liked Katie's determination more than her looks）； but I was smitten。 We dressed up for each other…our best clothes； our best manners； our best stories…until I came to the conclusion that it must be my two years of seniority and my friendship with the president of her eating club