"I look downward and I see the most magnificent and glittering city in
the world."

"And that's Paris, our glorious Paris, which you and I and a million
others are going to save. I suppose it's hope, John, that makes me feel
we'll do something. Did you know that the Germans dropped two more bombs
on the city last night? One, luckily, fell in the Seine. The other
struck near the Madeleine, close to a group of soldiers, killing two and
wounding four more."

"Bombs from the air can't do any great damage to a city."

"No, but they can spread alarm, and it's an insult, too. We feel as the
Germans would if we were dropping bombs on Berlin. I wish you'd keep
those glasses to your eyes all the time, John, and watch the skies. Let
me know at once, if you see anything suspicious."

John, continually turning in his seat, swept the whole curve of the
world with the powerful glasses. Paris was now far below, a blur of
white and gray. Above, the heavens were of the silkiest blue, beautiful
in their infinite depths, with tiny clouds floating here and there like
whitecaps on an ocean.

"What do you see now, John?"

"Nothing but one of the most beautiful days that ever was. It's a fine
sun, that you've got over here, Philip. I can see through these glasses
that it's made out of pure reddish gold."