So the days passed, taking with them light breezes beyond and about the Balearic Isles, and then to Sardinia, and then with gentle change persuading them northward again toward Corsica. But this floating, gentle-wafted existence, with its apparently peaceful influences, was becoming as bad as a nightmare to Gwendolen.
"How long are we to be yachting?" she ventured to ask one day after they had been touching at Ajaccio, and the mere fact of change in going ashore had given her a relief from some of the thoughts which seemed now to cling about the very rigging of the vessel, mix with the air in the red silk cabin below, and make the smell of the sea odious.

So the days passed, taking them with light breezes about the Balearic Isles, and then to Sardinia, and then persuading them northward toward Corsica. But this peaceful, gentle-wafted existence was becoming a nightmare to Gwendolen.
"How long are we to be yachting?" she ventured to ask one day after they had touched at Ajaccio, and the mere fact of going ashore was a relief.
