"I dare say they will, having got off scot free before. We must be ready to fly off at a moment's notice. The Zeppelin is very fast, I've heard."
"But no match for my machine. We'll use that instead of the Taube. I'm more used to it; it is faster and better for bomb-dropping."
"You won't pilot it, surely!"
"Indeed I shall! My arm doesn't bother me much, and you know I have had much more experience than you."
"I've had absolutely no experience of bomb-throwing," Kenneth protested.
"Well, you play golf, don't you? Do you remember the first time you went round?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Simply that, like everybody else, you probably got round in fewer strokes than you did for months afterwards."
"That's true; and very sickening it is. I'll do my best, then."
When everything was ready, they sat on the grass beside the aeroplane, scanning the sky for the Zeppelin. Kenneth, it must be confessed, was less impatient than Pariset, whose mercurial temperament ill-brooked a waiting game. He was constantly up and down, snatching up his field-glasses every few seconds, "fidgeting about," as Kenneth said to himself.