In the doorway stood Quivven, shaking with laughter. Myles was immediately embarrassed. He hadn’t known that his encounter had been observed. He hated to show off, and was afraid that his actions had appeared very melodramatic.
“Isn’t Tipi silly?” she asked.
“But he may make trouble with your father,” Myles said, with a worried frown.
“Oh, I’m not afraid of father.”
“But he will put an end to my experiments.”
So Quivven went home to chat with her father before young Tipi could get there to stir up possible trouble. She returned later in the day to resume her work. While she was gone, Cabot conferred with Doggo.
“Why are you building this radio set?” the ant-man wrote. “I did not ask you before in the presence of the lady, for I felt that perhaps you did not wish her to know your plans.”
“Doggo, you show remarkable intuition,” Myles wrote in reply. “It is true that I do not wish any of the Vairkings to know. My idea is to communicate with Cupia, learn how Lilla is getting along, and encourage my supporters there to hold out until in some way I can secure a Formian airship and return across the boiling seas.”
“Then cease your work,” Doggo wrote, “for my plane, in perfect condition, lies carefully hidden in a wood not a full day’s journey from this city. All that we need is alcohol for the trophil-engines.”