"D'you really mean that?" said Miss Deriot.
I shot her a glance. There was no mistaking the eagerness of her parted lips and the sparkle of her gay brown eyes. By way of replying I brought the car to a standstill. A moment later we had changed places.
"It's awfully kind of you," said Agatha delightedly, as she let in the clutch. "I've always wanted to drive a Rolls. I hope I shan't hurt her."
"You'll do her good," said I. "I watched you in the two-seater. You've got beautiful hands."
"Thank you, Boy."
"Now you shall have a stamp album as well. Go carefully here. There used to be a wasps' nest in that bank, but it's closed now, same as the German banks. What a war!"
"But I don't collect stamps."
"Then she shall have a dog. What about a Sealyham to sleep on your bed and bite the postman?"
"I'd love one," said Agatha.
"And you'll sit up in bed in the morning, with your hair all about your eyes, and smile at him, and he'll growl back at you—I can just see you."