Murdoch carried on a conversation with half his attention, while his mind churned. He thought, I'll have to resist the feeling that it's safer here in back of the building. They'll be watching everywhere. He wished he could get the man inside; under the cover of serving breakfast he could improvise something. I'm sweating, he thought. I can just begin to feel the lamps, but I'm wet all over. I've got to—
He drew in his breath sharply. From somewhere he heard the buzz of a bee. His mind leaped upon the sound. He stopped walking, and Waverill said, "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing. I—stepped on a big pebble."
"They all feel big to me. Damned outrage; taking away a man's...." Waverill's voice trailed off as he started experimenting with his eyes again.
There were more bees now, and presently Murdoch saw one loop over the edge of the building and search along the hedge. The first of them, he thought. There'll be more. He looked along the hedge. Most of the blossoms hadn't really closed for the night, though the petals were drawn together. He walked as slowly as he dared. The buzzing moved tantalizingly closer, then away.
A second buzz added itself. He heard the insect move past them, then caught it in the corner of his eye.
Waverill stopped. "Is that a bee? Here?"
"I guess they keep them to fertilize the plants, sir."
"They bother me. I can't tell where they are."