When finally he obtained the longed-for Nieuport, he flew sixteen hours
in five days, and naturally went to parade himself over Compiegne.
Without this dedication to his home, the machine would never be
consecrated.
When the overwork incident to such a life forced him to take a little
repose, he wandered back to his home like a soul in pain. It was in vain
that his parents and his two sisters--whom he called his "kids" as if he
were their elder--exhausted their ingenuity to amuse him. This home he
loved so much, which he left so recently, and returned to so happily,
bringing with him his young fame, no longer sufficed him. Though he was
so comfortable there, yet on clear days the house stifled him. On such
days he seemed like a school child caught in some fault: a little more
and he would have condemned himself. Then his sister Yvonne, who had
understood the situation, made a bargain with him.
"What is it you miss here at home?"
"Something you cannot give me. Or rather, yes, you can give it to me.
Promise me you will."
"Surely, if it will make you happy."
"I shall be the happiest of men.
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