"Nope. That's out. You'd have to think about your body."
Lucy's smooth brow puckered. She stepped quickly to the desk and spun the globe resting there.
"Nope. No luck there. We're almost at sea level. You can't get any lower than that. And if you went to higher altitude you'd weigh less."
Suddenly Lucy smiled, snatched up a pencil and began figuring on a pad, and Cornith mused reflectively: "She's a good sport. And a beauty. By George! I hope she figures it out." Then he frowned. "But it's impossible."
Lucy dropped the pencil and clapped her hands. "I have it," she exclaimed. "Time me now."
"I'll have to weigh you first," Cornith said. "Dripping wet."
Lucy's cheeks became a shade pinker. "Won't you take my word for it?"
Cornith shook his head. "You're an accomplished liar."
"I'll weigh her," the blonde offered.
Cornith shrugged. "It's okay with me. But when you claim you weigh a hundred and twenty-three pounds, with no ounces lacking, I'm going to do the weighing."