..."
"What!"
"Oh! I _embusqued_ myself behind a cloud."
Or, "The light dazzled me, so I hid the sun with my wing."
He never forgot his sisters' birthdays, but he could not always give
them the present he preferred. "Sorry I could not present you with a
Boche."
He was hardly different when his mother received company: he was never
seen to play the great man. Only on one subject he always and instantly
became serious, namely, when the future was mentioned. "Do not let us
make any plans," he would say.
* * * * *
A page from one of my own notebooks will help to show Guynemer as I used
to see him in his home.
_Wednesday, June 27, 1917._--Compiegne. Called on the Guynemers. He
is fascination itself with his "goddess on the clouds" gait--as if
he remembered when walking that he could also fly--with his
incomparable eyes, his perpetual movement, his interior
electricity, his admixture of elegance and ardor, and with that
impulse of his whole being towards one object which suggests the
antique runner, even when he is for an instant in repose.
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