Cedric. No, no. (Takes the paper and reads.) "The German Invasion. To-morrow, upon the conclusion of the Breslau meeting, Herr Klopstock will pack up his victorious new mono-plane and start for England. He announces his intention of trying within three weeks for the ten thousand pounds prize recently offered by the Aero Club to the first aviator who flies over Snowdon. Herr Klopstock, who has already, we understand, taken the whole of a hotel at Beddgelert for the accommodation of his staff, is convinced that his machine will rise easily to at least four thousand feet. The Kaiser has just christened the aeroplane the Black Eagle, by telegraph, and has assured the renowned aviator and ex-professor of the heartiest good wishes of himself and his house. His youngest grandchild, Prince—um—um—Fatherland—um—The news will certainly create a considerable sensation in England as it has done in Germany." I should say it would.
Flora. Why should it?
Cedric. What! The Kaiser's Black Eagle flying over the highest mountain in England, and getting ten thousand pounds for the job! It's unthinkable! How does it strike you?
Flora. It strikes me that it would have been much simpler and less expensive not to have offered the ten thousand pounds. It's altogether too tempting. Besides, it seems to me anybody ought to be able to fly over a little thing like Snowdon, seeing how they sail over the Pyrenees and all that sort of thing.
Cedric. My adorable child, don't talk like a member of the public. Henceforth you are in the know. The fogs alone make Snowdon worse than the Pyrenees. And then the Aero Club has been clever enough to ordain that the aviator is to start and land within four miles of the summit. How is a man to get off on such ground, and where is he to land without breaking wood? And then the business of finding his way! He's bound to do a lot of corkscrewing to get up, and nothing less than six thousand feet would be safe.
Flora. (With a gesture dismissing all that.) Well, I don't think it's quite nice of Mr. Klopstock. It ought to have occurred to him. But then, it never does seem to occur to Germans.... I've often noticed that in hotels. They don't seem to perceive. (Different tone.) Will he succeed?
Cedric. He might. I don't think he would; not with his present horse-power; but he just might.
Flora. Well, most probably he won't. And then you can try in July as you originally intended, and get the money after all. Then there will have been some sense in the prize, anyway.
Cedric. It isn't the money.
Flora. Surely it isn't the mountain?