Chapter ThreeIn the morning, long before Charity was ready, Vada was up, dressed and agitating to be off to see Paris.
“There’s no hurry. Miss Vada,” Charity kept saying. “I must get these things done first.”
“You can leave the rest of the unpacking,” Vada said. “If I don’t go out, if I don’t see the City, I shall go mad, Charity, or I shall go alone!”
This last threat galvanised Charity into action and, hiring an open carriage, Vada told it to drive up the Champs Élysées.
It was all she had expected it to be with large and impressive private mansions ranged behind the chestnut trees with their pink and white blooms.
She longed to know who they belonged to, but she was too shy to ask the cocher driving the two thin horses that drew the carriage.
She did know, however, that one of the
