But when she had been on her own for about an hour, she threw down her books and, staggering to her cabin, wrapped her thick fur-lined cloak around her and went up on deck.
Waves were breaking over the bows and the wind was whistling in an almost deafening manner against the masts. The deck had already been well cleared of anything that might be washed overboard. Perdita, standing outside the companionway holding on to a brass rail, felt the wind whip her hood from her head and blow her fair hair round her face in wild disarray.
The yacht’s bow was rearing up into the air one moment and then diving down deep into the white-crested water, sinking so low, Perdita felt that it would never right itself again.
It was like riding a switchback, she thought, and knew the same exhilaration she h
