But something was different this time. Suddenly the engine spluttered and died.

"We seem to have a problem," Riccardo said.

"I don't believe it," Justine said, jumping up and coming to stand beside him. "There's nothing wrong with that engine."

He shrugged. "Let's just say there are things I want to say before you leave. You may ignore them. You probably will. But I can't let you go without saying them."

Before he could say more, a large wave made the boat rock, knocking her off balance so that she had to cling to him. He was as steady as a rock.

"You see?" he said. "The boat lurches but we don't fall because we cling to each other."

"Pretty words, but only words," she said desperately. "You were right when you said that I don't trust love. How can you trust something that's built on such shifting foundations?"

Riccardo's answer astonished her.

"What's wrong with shifting foundations?"

She stared. "Everything's wrong with them. You can't use them to build something that will last."

"You can say that after what you saw yesterday, when we had to wade through high tide? You're wrong, and Venice is the proof that you're wrong. No city was ever built on shakier foundations than this one.

"A thousand years ago our ancestors fled into the tiny islands of the lagoon to escape the barbarians. Here they thrust wooden stakes down into the mud and built a city on top of those stakes that has been the glory of the world.

"You've heard that Venice is sinking, and yesterday you saw it for yourself. She's been sinking for centuries, but she's still here. Why? Because those of us who love her fight and struggle to keep her afloat.

"Does the lagoon flood? We'll build barriers. Does the humid air rot the pictures? We'll restore them. We never stop patching the old girl up, and she's still with us."