There was so much to look at, so much to exclaim about. On what must have been Pierre Valmont’s instructions, the carriage carried them along the Rue de Rivoli into the Place de la Concorde.
The fountains were playing and the water thrown high into the air caught the last rosy gleam of the setting sun.
Behind them the pink and white blossoms on the chestnut trees in the Champs Élysées looked like candles on a Christmas tree and the great height of the Luxor Obelisk was silhouetted against the sky.
“This was La Place de la Révolution,” Vada said almost beneath her breath.
“Here Louis XVI was guillotined in 1792 saying, ‘I die innocent. May my blood consolidate the happiness of the French people’,” Pierre Valmont added.
It was as if he was playing a game with her, Vada thought, as she w
