The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. “Was I not strong enough when you flogged me for leaning over the oubliette? Who tells you these things? The physician, Sebastianus? Am I not sovereign enough to judge what is happening to my own body?\" She demanded. 1. ” Anna stepped to the foot of the bed.
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