A KING IS DEADAfter a solid week of rain, cold winds and grey skies, the sun had come back to Monte Carlo. Melissa awoke to just such another morning as that on which she had landed from America. The sun's rays were warm on her face as she stood on the balcony in her dressing gown, breathing in the balmy air and delighting in the peerless blue of sea and sky laid behind the wedding-cake whiteness of the Casino. Stephen was in Paris, seeing about some panelling he had heard of that he thought they might use at the castle. He was flying back that morning and would be in the hotel by lunch time. Seeing that the weather was so fine, Melissa telephoned down to the porter and ordered her father's car, the cherished Selmar Eight, to be brought round. She realised she would require some sports clo
