“Don’t cry, Moonlight. We’ll be back next summer. And now we’re off for a real honeymoon.”
Valancy smiled through her tears. She was so happy that her happiness terrified her. But, despite the delights before her—‘the glory that was Greece and the grandeur that was Rome’—lure of the ageless Nile—glamour of the Riviera—mosque and palace and minaret—she knew perfectly well that no spot or place or home in the world could ever possess the sorcery of her Blue Castle.