The sky was of the deepest blue, with a few white, fleecy clouds drifting lazily across it, and the air was filled with the low drone of insects or with a sudden sharper note as bee or bluefly shot past with its quivering, long-drawn hum, like an insect tuning-fork.
Arthur Conan DoyleWhen you have one of the first brains of Europe up against you, and all the powers of darkness at his back, there are infinite possibilities.
Arthur Conan Doyle