“What is it, dear?” she asked softly. Roberta put the instrument low and spoke softly.
“Mrs. Pollzoff wants me to take her up this afternoon.”
“Perhaps you will feel more comfortable if you are flying,” her mother suggested.
“You will meet me?” came the demand in her ear.
“All right,” she agreed.
“In half an hour.”
“Yes.” She hung up the receiver and explained the call to her mother, but she said nothing about her uneasiness of the day before. The idea of getting an immediate assignment did make her feel less dispirited, and when she thought of the previous afternoon, she dismissed it promptly. “Probably all poppy-cock,” she told herself.
“It will not be difficult flying and if you have been taking her up every day, she may want to engage you regularly,” Mrs. Langwell remarked. “I know you will feel better satisfied, although I was beginning to hope I should have you to myself for a few days.”
“Ever get tired of me, Mummy?”
“Of all the idiotic questions ever asked, that takes the grand prize!” Mrs. Langwell answered. “Can I help you?”