CHAPTER XIX
THE SEALED BOX
Whatever the Aeroplane Lady thought to herself about the two in the Wing-room, there was no trace of it in her brisk greeting to Paul Dampier.
"I hope you haven't been waiting long?" she said. "I'm ready now."
Then she turned to her girl-assistant, who was once more laying the tacky strips of linen along the seams. "That's right," she said. "You can go straight on with that wing; that will take you some time. One of the wings for your machine," she added to the aviator. "I'm ready, Mr. Dampier."
She and the young man left the Wing-room together and entered the adjoining office, closing the door behind them.
Left alone, Gwenna went on swiftly working, and as swiftly dreaming. Rapidly, but none the less surely, seam after long seam was covered; and the busyness of her fingers seemed to help the fancies of her brain.
"One of the wings for his Machine!" she thought. "And there was I, thinking I should mind working for that—for 'Her,'" she smiled. "I don't, after all. I needn't care, now."
Her heart seemed singing within her. Nothing had happened, really. Only, she was sure of her lover. That was all. All! She worked; and her small feet on the floor seemed set on air, as in that flying dream.
"Such a great, huge wing for 'Her,'" she murmured to herself. "Such a little, little wing for himself that he asked for. My tiny one that I put in my shoe. It was for him I put it there! And now it's begun to bring him to me. It has!" she exulted. "He's begun to care. I know he does."