"You had that coming to you, my little man," he said sternly. "You should learn to understand expressions of beauty."
"Sugar in his coffee!" the English youth snorted. "Moonlight on a summer night! Good grief! Whoever heard of such things?"
"Oh, I've got lots more of them," Dave chuckled. "Better ones, too. Listen."
"Don't!" Freddy groaned.
Dave ignored him and stuck one hand inside his tunic and extended the other palm up toward the nearest Spitfire.
"A Mark Five is the lace in your shoe!" he cried. "It is the frosting on mother's cake. It is the apple in her dumpling pie. It is the breath of spring. It is the kiss of your girl. It is...."
Dave stopped short and shook his head.
"No, that's wrong," he said. "No girl would kiss that map of yours, Freddy. They'd.... Hey! So I'm talking to myself, huh?"
It was true. Dave was simply throwing beautiful words at free air. Freddy had left him cold and walked over to Flight Lieutenant Barker, who had led the test hop patrol. Dave went over there scowling.
"Fine business!" he growled. "I try to better his education and he walks out on me!"