Rémon ordered two coffees and brioches and, as the waiter departed, he then held out his hand to Fiona.
“Well done, comrade,” he smiled.
Fiona laughed.
“I have never been so frightened in my life,”
“You were splendid,” he replied, “and now you are packed?”
“Yes,” Fiona answered, “but where am I to go?”
Rémon wrinkled his forehead.
“Where would you like to go?” he asked. “I do think it is better for us both to leave this charming City for a little while. I personally am taking an aeroplane to Amsterdam, where they are interested in and not superstitious about, shall we say, green stones.”
Fiona shrugged.
“I don’t mind,” she confessed.
“Then I should try Monte Carlo,” Rémon said. There is always something doing there. All the world and his wife will be down there in a week or so an
