“Isn't it a rather dangerous job?” asked Lanny. “I mean, mayn't they take him for a spy?”
“He'll have a letter from me, and the embassy will identify him.”
“And won't the munitions people find out about him?”
“Oh, sure. They know we're bound to watch them.”
“That won't hurt their feelings?”
Robbie was amused. “In our business you don't have feelings — you have cash.”
Away from All That
I
A TELEPHONE call for Lanny at the Crillon. He answered, and let out a whoop. “Where are you? Oh, glory! Come right up.” He hung up the receiver. “It's Rick! He got leave!” Lanny rushed out to the lift, to wait for his friend; grabbed him and hugged him, then held him off at arm's length and examined him. “Gee, Rick, you look grand!”
The young flying officer had grown to man's stature. His khaki uniform was cut double in front, making a sort of breastplate of cloth; on the left breast was a white badge, indicating that he had a flying certificate, and high up on both sleeves were eagle wings. His skin was bronzed and his cheeks rosy; flying hadn't hurt him. With his wavy black hair cut close and a brown service cap on top he was a handsome fellow; and so happy over this visit — they were going to see Paris together, and Paris was the world!