It might as well be Melusine herself. She felt anger at Sebastian, anger at the thrill that she felt in her loins upon seeing him, anger at herself for never having the courage to end her own life. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. “How do you know?” “Well, it isn’t exactly a depressing state, is it?” “YOU don’t know. And when there is no longer any need to use it, why then, enough you say—and throw it away. ’ He shifted unguardedly, and hissed a breath, wincing.
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