“But now I know you are chaffing, I don’t mind.”
“And how do you know I’m chaffing?”
“Because your own eyes twinkle so.”
As a matter of fact, Herron’s eyes were snapping maliciously, but Patty ignored this, and deftly turned the subject.
“When do you go back to the Aviation Field?” she inquired.
“Tomorrow, alas! I had hoped for longer leave, but a new class is to be trained, and I must be on the job.”
“I can’t help marvelling at the courage and bravery of an aviator. It seems to me that you take your life in your hands ever more desperately and dangerously than those actually at the front.”
“In a sense, we do,” agreed Herron, a little gravely. “As the darky said, ‘If yuh gets killed on the ground, yuh knows where yuh is; but if yuh gets killed up in de air,—where is yuh?’”
“And so many do get killed.”
“Yes, but the proportion continually grows smaller, of course, as we learn more of the art.”