The terrace of Villa Rosa juts out into the lake, bordered on three sides by a stone parapet, and shaded above by a yellow-ochre awning.

Masses of oleanders hang over the wall and drop pink petals into the blue waters below.

As a study in colour the terrace is perfect, but, like the courtyard of the Hotel du Lac, decidedly too hot for mid-afternoon.

To the right of the terrace, however, is a shady garden set in alleys of cypress trees, and separated from the lake by a strip of beach and a low balustrade.

There could be no better resting-place for a warm afternoon.
It was close upon four--five minutes past to be accurate--and the usual afternoon quiet that enveloped the garden had fled before the garrulous advent of four girls.