Robert slowly raised both hands to his temples. Lingeringly, he dragged them down over his cheeks and under his chin until at last the fingers interlaced over his tight lips. After a moment, he let out his breath between his fingers and dropped his hands to his sides.
He raised one foot to kick, but decided that the door looked too hard.
He walked away between the beds of flowers, grumbling.
eaching the vicinity of the cottage, he parted the tall shrubs bordering its grounds and looked through carefully before proceeding. Pleased at the gleam of water, he called Blue Two.
"Good enough! Put the other robots away for the night. They can trim the edges tomorrow."
He started into the cottage, but his major-domo warned, "Someone comes."
Robert looked around. Through thin portions of the shrubbery, he caught a glimpse of Marcia-Joan's crimson robe, nearly black in the diffused glow of the lights illuminating the grounds.
"Robert!" called the girl angrily. "What are your robots doing? I saw them from my upstairs window—"