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"Really, you touch me deeply,I said with a broad serving of [[strikethrough]] sarcasm,"but will you really pay for my dinner."

"Sure, anything you want. Sky's the limit. Just order it and it will arrive."

"Okay, Ill do it. but you'll be sorry. The free dinner is the really persuasive ace. For the food I'd do anything. For you...well that's something else."

I immediately passed the invitation to the lady in question. In her eagerness to accept she insisted on returning to the clubhouse with me. It seemed that suddenly she didn't want mw to get out of her sight. She waited pat[[strikethrough]]ntly while I changed from my flying clothes and we went downstairs. The steward bowed low and ushered us into the dining room. Much to my surprise he didn't put us at my regular table, but instead seated us next to [[strikethrough]] a table occupied by Scott, Sinclair, his brother and Al Welch, Al as mentioned earlier was the W ight Brothers first student. Al was still active as a member of their famed exhibition team. The lady and I ordered our dinner. I noticed that the boys at the next table were engaged in very animated conversation and talking rather loudly. Parts of the conversation drifted our way and one of the choice fragments was contributed by Scott Sinclair who said to Al Welch, "Why no...that would be an utter revolution. I don't believe they could ever fly a thing like that." I stupidly didn't realize for the moment that these clowns were setting us both up very prettily. They acted out their roles like a major Hollywood production with occasional furtive looks over the shoulder. They'd vary the routine by hunching over the table and a [[strikethrough]] pulling the conversation level down to a whisper. The whole thing was peculiar to me and the whole line of talk 
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