Everything seemed to glow with a warmth and radiance which made her feel as if Nice gave her a special welcome and, before they dropped anchor, she could see the palms, the graceful feathery tamarisks, the oleanders and, what she longed for more than anything else, the yellow mimosa.
“I want to go ashore immediately!” she cried excitedly to the Marquis.
Then, as he did not reply, she looked up at him and saw a frown between his eyes.
“You think that would be – unwise?” she asked quickly.
“What I would like to do,” he replied, “is to have a quick look round to see who I know here. As you are well aware, this is a fashionable time of the year for people to come to Nice and I would not wish you to be embarrassed until we have made our plans.”
“Yes – of course,” Ola said quickly.
She rea
