"She's certainly a beautiful car," said Agatha, as the Rolls sailed up a
treacherously steep gradient on top. "It's like being in a lift."

"And, but for you, we might never have seen her again. Shall I give you
a stamp album, or would you like to drive?"

"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.