“Yes⁠ ⁠… to fly!” he cried. “To clear your soul of all the earth-horrors! To wash your mind clean, in a blue bath of air! Think of it! To fly over land and sea till you realize the roundness of the earth! To feel your mind changing⁠ ⁠… becoming a purer instrument⁠ ⁠… as you leave this cluttered world!”

The drumming of the aeroplane was now accompanied by the harsh snorting and snarling of a large motorcar.

“Whether it’s by air or by road,” observed Jason, in the tone of a very old hermit, “these young men come down upon us; and it’s best to win favour of the Lords of Science.” He glanced sideways at the waiter. “They come by sea too, sometimes,” he added, hunching his shoulders in mock-alarm. “This young man looks like a chief engineer on a liner,” he went on, lowering his voice to a whisper, and glancing at his brother.

Wolf began to feel as if he were stranded alone on a high, exposed platform, hooted and shrieked at by thousands of motors and aeroplanes.⁠ ⁠…