His eyes on Melusine, he uncocked the pistol, and then reached out to the portrait, grasping it by one edge. Then the girl was heading past the inn and Roding marched down to confront her. Sebastian's arms were about her, his fists pumping her stomach as she coughed forth saltwater from her belly and lungs. “Dear me!” he said. Melusine giggled, and tucked her hand into his. ‘Marry an Englishman! Which Englishman?’ Melusine shrugged.
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