The lobby of the Britannique Hotel seemed to Niki like an aging lady who had once been a great beauty: elegant, aloof, maintained, prim and proper. Even as its loveliness waned, it seemed not to mind the swift passing of time.
The receptionist suggested they have a coffee while their room was being prepared. They’d barely finished sipping the last of their cappuccino when they were already on their way up in the narrow elevator. The building offered them yet another gift of splendor: their room was spacious and the ceilings high, with an old fashioned fan hanging down. Niki stepped to the window and gazed out at the vast view of the Neapolitan bay: the azure sea dotted with a few boats, brick and whitewashed buildings standing on the shore, their roofs red.
“Look at this!” Niki cried.
“
