Or aren't you that sort?"

Miss Deriot flung back her head and laughed.

"I'd rather you gave me a leg up," she said.

With a hand on my shoulder and a foot in my hand she was up and over in
an instant. I vaulted after her.

"You know," I said, "we ought to perform, you and I. With a painter's
ladder, a slack wire, and a little practice, we should do wonders. On
non-matinée days I might even lift you with my teeth. That always goes
well, and no one would know you were as light as a rose-leaf."

"Seven stone three in the bathroom," said Agatha. "Without stockings.
Some rose-leaf."

We were going uphill. The meadow through which we were passing sloped to
an oaken fence, stoutly constructed to save the cattle from a perilous
fall. For on its farther side the ground fell away sheer, so that at
this point a bluff formed one high wall of the sunken road for which we
were making. _The Thatcher_, I remembered, stood immediately opposite to
the rough grass-grown steps, hewn years ago for the convenience of such
passengers as we. There was a stile set in the fence, and as I swung
myself over I glanced down past the edge of the bluff and into the road
below.

In the little curved space that fronted the inn the Rolls was standing
silent and unoccupied.