In the mess of epics which the newspapers print concerning bitter-faced aviators who fly grimly across oceans and continents for glory or their mothers there should be no word of a flight which began last week at Stag Lane Airdrome, near London. Not an epic but an airy epigram, it told the story of a rich old man and a charming lady and soldier.
The Rich Old Man was the celebrated Harry Gordon Selfridge who, as everyone knows, worked his way up through Marshall Field's Chicago department store before leaving the U. S. and setting himself up in England with a huge...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
