“I will not listen to your plausible impertinences,” she said. “Maurice, shall we go and hear Tetrazzini to-morrow?”
George looked daggers at his aunt, and stole away as soon as dinner was finished, to talk over his grievances with Sheila.
Next day, he went early into the village, and returned in an hour or two, sitting on a lorry next to the driver, the damaged car behind him. It was taken to his workshop at the foot of the garden. Maurice was walking on the lawn, smoking a cigarette. He did not so much as lift his eyes as the vehicle passed, and George turned his head aside: the brothers might have been strangers.
For several days George was hardly to be seen. He had ordered a new front wheel and fork from the maker, and until they arrived forbore to speak of the gyro-car, and occupied himself in repairing the wind-screen in front, and in working at various mechanical models with which he was experimenting. He was going up to Cambridge in October, and the science master at his school foretold that he would take a first-class in the engineering tripos, if he would only concentrate himself and not dabble in things outside the curriculum.
The new parts arrived. On the next day Maurice was strolling past the workshop, which he had never yet deigned to enter, when his attention was arrested by the sight of his brother’s car standing by itself on the path. A faint humming proceeded from its interior. George was not to be seen. In spite of himself, Maurice found himself gazing at the machine with interest, for, though it had four wheels tandem, and was not supported on either side, it stood perfectly upright. He glanced round furtively to make sure that his brother was not watching, and then walked round the car, stooping at every few paces to look beneath it and assure himself that he was not mistaken. There were no supports; the machine was actually balancing itself on its four wheels.
“Rummy!” he murmured. “How’s it done?”
He was peeping over the side of the car, when George’s voice hailed him heartily.
“Hallo, Maurice! Isn’t she a beauty?”
Instantly he moved away, and began to stroll down the path as if nothing could be less worthy of his attention.
“Swank!” said George to himself.