Hugo, fondling his Chopin curl again, went on amusing himself with this chosen subject.
"But, as is so often the case with a young man's fancy," he announced, "nobody else sees anything in 'her'!"
The stricken Gwenna looked quickly at young Dampier, who was cutting the Titan wedges that men call "slices," of cake. How would he take it that it had been said of his adored one that no one saw anything in her?
He only gave a short laugh, a confident nod of his fair head and said, "They will, though."
"Infatuated youth!" commented Hugo Swayne, resignedly, leaning back. "And he tries to cover it up by seeming casual. 'Going on as usual' is said just as a blind. It sounds so much more like a mere wife than a fiancée, don't you think?"
"Ah, but you are cynique, monsieur," protested the young Frenchman, looking mildly shocked. "For you it is not sacred, the love for a wife?"
"Oh, look here! Hadn't you better explain to them," broke in Paul Dampier boyishly, having finished a large mouthful of his cake, "that you're rotting? Fiancée, indeed. Haven't got such a thing in the world, of course."
At this Gwenna suddenly felt as if some crushing weight of disappointment had fallen from her. "It's because I shall be able to go flying with him after all," she thought.
Young Dampier, rising to take her cup, grumbled laughingly, "D'you suppose girls will look at a man nowadays who can't afford to spend the whole of his time gadding about after 'em, Hugo, as you can, or blowing what's my salary for an entire year on their engagement-rings——"
"My dear fellow, no girl in the world exacts as much of a man's time and money as that grande passion of yours does," retorted Hugo Swayne, not ill-naturedly. And turning to Leslie, he explained: "What I call Paul's fiancée is that eternal aeroplane he's supposed to be making."