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then the designer harped back to the original subject.
    ‘Who was that second pilot who got off then?’
    ‘Captain Stenning,’ said Morris. ‘I don’t know if you ever met him; he spent most of his time instructing near Gloucester, I believe.’
    But Rawdon had never done so, and the conversation drifted to general subjects. With all his knowledge, the big man had a childlike interest in any new thing connected with aviation.
    Morris, amused at his persistence, found himself recounting the minutest details of the business. Soon, by what seemed a natural transition, the conversation drifted to personalities, and his whole career in aviationwas laid bare. This was a more serious matter, Morris pulled himself up, began to consider what he was saying and to wonder whether it might not be possible to touch this man for a little information and advice upon his own account. It would not do to let such a man get away without sounding him. Presently the designer gave him the opening that he was looking for.
    ‘And so you’re sticking to this business?’ he inquired, in his gentle even tone.
    Morris glanced at him. ‘I’m not so sure about that,’ he said. ‘Think it worth it?’
    The other returned the glance quizzically. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t think so.’
    ‘That’s rather what I thought.’
    The designer considered for a little. ‘Mind you,’ he said, ‘there’ll be a great shortage of pilots one of these days; not yet, but soon. There aren’t any more coming on.’
    ‘I dare say,’ said Morris. ‘But what kind of pilots? Engine-driver sort?’
    ‘Of course, it’ll come to that - in a very few years.’
    There was a minute or two of silence.
    ‘Look here,’ said Morris. ‘I’m not trying to touch you for a job.’ The designer smiled. ‘But how does one set about getting on to the design side? It’s the only stable part of this industry. I did mathematics at Oxford. Would there be anything doing for me in a design office do you suppose?’
    ‘What as?’ asked the designer. It was a disconcerting little query.
    Morris rubbed his chin. ‘I don’t know how things go in a firm,’ he said. ‘But isn’t there any opening on the design side for a man like me?’
    ‘I don’t think there’s a chance of it,’ said Rawdon frankly. ‘Take my own firm. I had six or seven of your sort in the war, on stress and performance work. I’ve gottwo now, and the rest have taken temporary jobs till they can get back into aviation again. And you don’t know anything about it - differential equations won’t help you much in the design of aeroplanes - not yet, anyhow.’
    Morris considered for a minute or two. ‘One must do something,’ he said, ‘and this won’t last for ever. Tell me, on the design side you have people who calculate stresses and loads - stress merchants you call them, don’t you? How does one set about that work - how does one start in it? My own idea is that it’s pretty easily picked up. One might combine it with piloting.’
    ‘That might help, certainly,’ said the designer. ‘I had a mechanic pilot once, but he wasn’t much good - he always had to be leaving his job for someone else to finish while he went flying. That might not be so bad in the office.’
    ‘What does one have to know?’
    The designer looked at him thoughtfully. ‘I don’t suppose it would be so very much for you,’ he said. ‘You want to get up to about the Civil Engineer’s level - eventually. With some aerodynamics. I suppose one could get it up by oneself all right. The difficulty would be to get anyone to take you on and give you a trial.’
    ‘One might get a job as a pilot and work one’s way in,’ said Morris.
    ‘It might be done that way, I suppose. I can give you the names of one or two books if you’re really thinking of it.’
    He wrote down three names on a visiting card and handed it to Morris. ‘If you know something about what’s in those,’ he said, ‘you’ve got a