One day thirty years ago Marseilles lay in the burning sun. A blazing sun upon a fierce August day was no greater rarity in southern France then than at any other time before or since. Everything in Marseilles and about Marseilles had stared at the fervid sun, and been stared at in return, until a staring habit had become universal there. Strangers were stared out of countenance by staring white houses, staring white streets, staring tracts
