This he accordingly did, and leaving Marseilles the next morning about eight, found himself at Nice early in the afternoon.
Now that he was actually at the centre of his gravitation he seemed even further away from a feasible meeting with her than in England.

While afar off, his presence at Nice had appeared to be the one thing needful for the solution of his trouble, but the very house fronts seemed now to ask him what right he had there.

Unluckily, in writing from England, he had not allowed her time to reply before his departure, so that he did not know what difficulties might lie in the way of her seeing him privately.

Before deciding what to do, he walked down the Avenue de la Gare to the promenade between the shore and the Jardin Public, and sat down to think.
The hotel which she had given him as her address looked right out upon him and the sea beyond, and he rested there with the pleasing hope that her eyes might glance from a window and discover his form.

Everything in the scene was sunny and gay.