Seducers of the Emerald Coast

Very early in the morning, before the principesse came down to breakfast, there were only the mosquitoes, and a waiter in a red cummerbund laying tables, and me. A plate-glass window the size of a CinemaScope screen looked out over a glittering blue-and-green bay where sea-going yachts trembled in heat-haze.

One belonged to Stavros Niarchos; another to Baron Edmond de Rothschild; a third to the Aga Khan. The waiter knew his yachts. And was I waiting for someone, sir? Yes, I was. Meanwhile I. Would Look Round.

TS

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Tom Sage

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Very early in the morning, before the principesse came down to breakfast, there were only the mosquitoes, and a waiter in a red cummerbund laying tables, and me. A plate-glass window the size of a CinemaScope screen looked out over a glittering blue-and-green bay where sea-going yachts trembled in heat-haze.

One belonged to Stavros Niarchos; another to Baron Edmond de Rothschild; a third to the Aga Khan. The waiter knew his yachts. And was I waiting for someone, sir? Yes, I was. Meanwhile I. Would Look Round.