Aurora examines the cord with the focused expression of a child who has definitely untied things before and sees no reason why now should be different. The knot is not complicated. harbour_dog assists by attempting to lick the cord, which is not technically useful but is extremely committed. After approximately eleven seconds of combined effort — Aurora pulling, Flavio waving the boutonnière for moral support — the cord comes free. harbour_dog shakes himself from nose to tail with the dignity of a small official released from a minor inconvenience. He does not bolt. He looks at Aurora. Aurora looks at him. An arrangement is reached. They set off in a small procession: Aurora in front, harbour_dog trotting at her knee, brass bell chiming a bright little rhythm against the cobblestones, Flavio bringing up the rear and conducting operations with the boutonnière-wand. They round the corner. The great oak front door of the Church of Lysekil stands before them, closed but not latched. harbour_dog's nose finds the gap immediately. His tail, already at full speed, somehow accelerates further. Aurora looks at Flavio. Flavio looks at Aurora. The wand is raised. The door opens.