“Where is that?”
“On the fringe of Naples.”
“Do you live in a hotel?”
“No.” A slight surprise sounded in his voice. “I have a villa there.”
“Do you know what that seems to me?” Cora asked gravely, after a pause; then answered herself, after another: “Like magic. Like a strange, beautiful dream.”
“Yes, it is beautiful,” he said.
“Then tell me: What do you do there?”
“I spend a lot of time on the water in a boat.”
“Sailing?”
“On sapphires and emeralds and turquoises and rubies, melted and blown into waves.”