"Ah, but I mean in a race. A big flying race—it's about the one thrill worth having left in the world!"
"You should fly your own machine. That's better fun than bein' a passenger. Any one of the big schools would take you on, for a matter of seventy pounds or so. It's quite simple."
"Would they? Will you build me an aeroplane, if they do?"
"With pleasure, if you give me the commission."
"I shall come and see you about it directly I get back to England."
"Do."
Lettice gazed from one to the other. Dorothea was like a rose, her eyes were sparkling; Denis was amused and interested. True that at present he saw only the enthusiast, not the woman, but it was not to be supposed that he lacked the common instincts of human nature. Was this sudden friendship to be encouraged? Lettice answered that question by uprooting herself from her seat.
"It is one o'clock," she announced. "I am going home."
Denis, as her escort, rose too. Dorothea sat still, looking decidedly sulky.