The silken trap

They had flown in low over a blue sea, the wingtips of the giant plane seeming almost to be about to touch the white roofs of a jagged row of skyscrapers which fringed the yellow sands before it veered sharply, losing height, circling slowly until it straightened and came down on the small airfield. Claire leaned against the window, staring out. Andrew touched her hand briefly and she turned her head to smile at him.