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LA MARETTE seemed just as Celia Kent remembered it, allowing for the inevitable changes made by the war—an unfashionable little seaside village in the South of France basking in the brilliant Mediterranean sunshine, depending for its existence on the swarm of little boats that bobbed on the blue waters of the harbour in the bay. But there were subtle changes apparent at the Hotel Bienvenu. In spite of its summer visitors, the holiday spirit was conspicuously absent, in its place a feeling of unease, an atmosphere of tension that mounted rapidly, culminated, almost inevitable it seemed, in murder. Against the fragrant background of pine, tamarisk and rosemary Elizabeth Ferrars has written a crime story of distinction, peopled with characters that really live. |