It would be Christmas soon, and he thought that he would rather get it over on the Riviera than anywhere else, because the blue and gold weather would not remind him of other hristmases which were gone ” pure, white, cold Christmases, musical with joy-bells and sweet with aromatic pine, the scent of trees bom to be C’hristoias trees. There hod been a time when he had fancied it would be a wonderful thing to see the Riviera. He hail thought what it would be like to be a rich man, and bring a certain girl here for a moon of honey and roses. She was the most beautiful girl in the world, or he Ijelieved her so, which is exactly the same thing; and he had imagined the joy of walking with her on just such a terrace.
