For Mr. Swayne inquired blandly across the tea-table:
"Well, Paul; how's your fiancée?"
CHAPTER VIII
LAUGHING ODDS
Before he answered, Gwenna had time to think smartingly, "His fiancée! There! I might have known he was engaged. I might have guessed it! It's nothing to do with me.... Only ... I believe that's what's going to get in the way of my flying with him. She won't let him. I mean he'll always be taking her up! And I know who it is, too. It's sure to be the one called Muriel that I saw go up with him at Hendon with the red hair and the scarf. I sort of guessed when I heard they were going up together that she must be his fiancée."
And all the while her eyes were, apparently, on the silver stand of the spirit-kettle, they watched the young Airman's face (which looked a little sheepish). She listened, tensely, for his reply. Quite shortly Paul Dampier, still munching cake, said, "Who? Oh! Going on as usual, thanks."
"Now I may tell you that that's merely a pose to conceal devotion," laughed his cousin, turning to Gwenna. "Just as if every moment were not grudged that he spends away from HER!"
"Is it?" said the young girl with a smile. There was a bad lump in her throat, but she spoke with her most carefully-fostered "English" accent. "I—I suppose that's natural!" she remarked.