Here she saw that the Airman had half turned. His boyish, determined profile was dark in shadow against the plan on the wall; the plan of the P.D.Q. Sunlight through the office window touched and gilded the edge of his blonde head.
"Yes; I thought so. Have to be a rifle after all," he repeated in a matter-of-fact tone. Then, turning more round, his glance met the startled eyes of the girl in the doorway.
And that finished the dilemma for Gwenna.
Something rose up in her and was too strong to let her be silent.
"Oh! I've seen it!" she cried sharply. "Paul!"
He took one stride towards her and slipped his arm about her as she swayed. She was white to the lips.
"Is there any water——" began young Dampier, but already the Aeroplane Lady had poured out a glassful.
It was he, however, who put it to Gwenna's lips, holding her still.
"It's all right, darling," he said reassuringly (and the give-away word slipped very easily from his tongue). "Better, aren't you? Frightfully muggy in that room with those radiators! You oughtn't to be—— Here!" He took some of the cold water and dabbed it on her curls.