His name was Peter. The moisture from the sea was constant, and she spent countless hours staring at the sea from the west tower, the rise and fall of waves. ” She smiled grimly at the recollection of that lunch—tea and roll at a cheap café. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. "The lash cuts to the bone. Why had he offered her that kiss on board The Tigress? Perhaps that had been his hour of disenchantment. ’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. Les Misérables, A Tale of Two Cities, Henry Esmond, The Last Days of Pompeii, The Marble Faun … Love stories! Until her arrival in Singapore, she had never read a novel.
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