Michelle had warned her of the girl, calling her “Bitchster”. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. ‘Why did you bring him? I hate him. " She departed reluctantly. "Ruth?" "Hoddy!" she cried.
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