Polidori flicked the reins as they approached the steeper incline of the lane. The mare obediently increased her pace, pulling the cabriolet up the rise and onto the next plateau toward a small hamlet of chalets.
“They are so wonderful, Polidori. So rustic,” Mary said. The chalets angled about them, their wooden exteriors dark with age; their shutters brightly painted red, blue, and green; their tiled roofs heavy with lichen and small flowering plants. “Look at the shape of tulips cut into the balustrade. Such a beautiful hamlet. Such a magnificent country.” She placed a hand on his arm to draw his attention from his inner thoughts toward the beauty about them.
Polidori nodded in subdued happiness as he nudged the mare and cabriolet along graveled lanes, through magnolia groves, across s
