"Oh, that's it, is it? You're singing another tune. The last time you mentioned him it was in connection with murder, I think."
"Never mind. He could get in that window, just the same."
Pete eyed her for an instant, then walked toward the garden wall.
"Wait till I'm lying crushed at your feet," he said bitterly. "You're driving me to suicide."
"Pooh!" said Mary.
He climbed the wall and tested his reach in the direction of the window. The sill was at least a foot beyond the tips of his fingers.
"Jump for it," she said from below. "It looks easy."
"Does it?" he said scornfully. "You ought to see it from here."
"I can see it perfectly well. I could do it myself."