Malone tried to look calm, cool and collected. “They’ll be here,” he said. “Don’t worry about a thing.” Privately, he hoped he was right. Boyd hadn’t shown up yet, and Boyd was bringing the musical-comedy spy trio. It wasn’t, Malone thought, that Boyd was usually late. But with Brubitsch, Borbitsch and Garbitsch in tow, almost anything could happen, he thought. He hoped fervently that it wouldn’t. “It won’t,” Her Majesty said. “At least, it hasn’t so far. They’re all in a car, and they’re driving right here. Boyd is thinking that he ought to be here within five minutes.” Malone nodded, wiping his forehead. “Five minutes, Colonel,” he called back to the figure at the door. The colonel nodded efficiently at him, turned and disappeared inside the plane. Malone looked at his watch. The second hand was going around awfully fast, he thought. He wondered if it were possible for time to speed up while he waited, so that by the time Boyd arrived he would be an old, old man. He felt about eight years older already, he told himself, and a minute hadn’t even passed. He forced his eyes away from the moving second hand. Looking at it, he knew, would only make him more nervous. Maybe there was some scenery around that he could stare at. He raised his eyes and looked out toward the gates that led to the interior of the air terminal. Scenery, he told himself in sudden wonder, was no word for it. He stared. He wanted to blink, but at the same time he felt that it would be a shame to close his eyes for even a tenth of a second. He held his eyelids apart by main force and went right on staring. The girl walking toward him across the field was absolutely beautiful. She seemed to make everything light up and start singing. Malone was sure that, somewhere, he could hear birds plugging their favorite numbers, and the soft rustle of the wind through pine branches. He could feel the soft caress of the wind on his face, and he could smell the odor of lilacs and honeysuckles and violets and whatever all those other flowers were. They had all different colors and shapes, and he couldn’t remember many of their names, but he could tell they were all around him. They had to be all around him. Especially all the red ones. The girl had red hair that tossed gently in the wind. The bottom two-thirds of her figure, Malone was happy to note, was not only as good as the top third but a good deal better. It took him several seconds to reach this conclusion, because at first he was willing to swear that he had never seen such a beautiful girl before. But, he told himself with a shade of apprehension, he had. As she approached, he stood up. “Well, well,” he said brightly. “If it isn’t the Lady That’s Known as Lou. Did the Psychical Research Society give you the day off, or are you here to see about a misplaced broom?” The girl beamed at him. “My, my,” she said. “How are you?” “Fine,” Malone said. “And—” “And how are the others?” she said.