Maxwell and the girl started their weekend on Thursday, in Venice. Friday they went to Paris, Saturday to Nice, and on Sunday they were bored. Alice pouted at him across the breakfast table. "Vernon, let's go someplace else," she said. "Sure," said Maxwell, not too graciously. "Don't you want your bug eggs?" Alice pushed them away. "If I ever did, I don't now. Why do you have to be so unpleasant in the morning?" The eggs were insect eggs, all right, but they were on the menu as oeufs Procyon Thi