For a little while the world would hold nothing else.
They were climbing, climbing, writing an invisible spiral in the air.
Bland half turned his head, and Johnny caught his meaning with telepathic keenness.

They were going to loop, and Bland wanted him to yield the control and to watch closely how the thing was done.
They swooped like a hawk that has seen a meadow mouse amongst the grass.

They climbed steeply, swung clean over, so that the earth was oddly slipping past far above their heads; swung down, flattened out and flew straight.

It was glorious.
A second time Bland looped, and yet again.

It was exactly as Johnny had known it would be.