Chapter 9

If the English inventor had not solved the baffling Problem of Stability, he had come uncommonly near it, by the Great Brass Hat! And the dud-heads at Whitehall had shown the door to him and his invention. "Good Christmas!--how like 'em!" reflected Franky, lowering the glasses to chuckle, and looking round for Margot. There she was, some twenty yards distant, planted right in the middle of the avenue, lost to the wide in rapt contemplation of the hovering aeroplane. "Kitts!" he called, but she did not hear, or dis…