It was late that evening when Maltravers found himself alone in his carriage, pursuing by starlight the ancient and melancholy road to mola di Gaeta.
"Ernest Maltravers, Complete"
Edward Bulwer-Lytton
The next morning, when he rose, the orange blossoms of mola di Gaeta were sweet beneath the window of the inn where he rested.
"Ernest Maltravers, Complete"
Edward Bulwer-Lytton
Italy itself boasts few spots more lovely than that same mola di Gaeta-nor does that halcyon sea wear, even at Naples or Sorrento, a more bland and enchanting smile.
"Ernest Maltravers, Complete"
Edward Bulwer-Lytton