"Where?" she asked with interest.
"There are lots of little villages in Switzerland."
She shook her head.
"And along the Riviera."
"I love the little villages," she replied. "I love them here and at home. But it's no use."
She smiled. There was something pathetic about that smile—something that made Covington's arm muscles twitch.
"I should n't even have the aid of the taxis in the little villages," she said.
Monte leaned back.
"If they only had here in Paris a force of good, honest Irish cops instead of these confounded gendarmes," he mused.
She looked her astonishment at the irrelevant observation.