“Our bungalow! Our precious home!”
“I know.” He saw that she was crying: “It's a rotten shame and all that, but it isn't fatal.”
He brought the Pauillac down-wind again, coasting high over the bungalow, whence smoke now issued ever more and more thickly.
“We're simply hamstrung this time, that's all. Where those devils have come from and how many there may be, God knows. Thousands, perhaps; the woods may be full of em. It's lucky for us they didn't attack while we were there!
“Now--well, the only thing to do is let 'em have their way for the present. Eventually--”
“Oh, can't we ever get rid of the horrid little beasts for good?”
“We can and will!” He spoke very grimly, soaring the machine still higher over the river and once more coming round above the upper end of the beach. “One of these days there's got to be a final reckoning, but not yet!”
“So it's good-by to Hope Villa, Allan? There's no way?”
“It's good-by. Humanly speaking, none.”
“Couldn't we land, blockade ourselves in the boat-house, and--”