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~::坑爹小游戏过关策略|Jimena Carranza::~

~::坑爹小游戏过关策略|Jimena Carranza::~



                                  • She laughed, pleased at the awe in his voice. 'Dunlop Rally studs on all the tyres. They're only supposed to be for Rally drivers, but I managed to wangle a set out of them. Don't worry. Just sit back and enjoy the drive.'


                                    Number Two of Secret Service Station WB was a lean, tense man in his early forties. He wore the uniform of his profession-well-cut, well-used, lightweight tweeds in a dark green herringbone, a soft white silk shirt, and an old school tie (in his case Wykehamist). At the sight of the tie, and while they exchanged conventional greetings in the small musty lobby of the apartment, Bond's spirits, already low, sank another degree. He knew the type-backbone of the civil service... overcrammed and underloved at Winchester... a good second in P.P.E. at Oxford... the war, staff jobs he would have done meticulously-perhaps an O.B.E.... Allied Control Commission in Germany where he had been recruited into the I Branch.... And thence-because he was the ideal staff man and A-one with Security, and because he thought he would find life, drama, romance-the things he had never had-into the Secret Service. A sober, careful man had been needed to chaperone Bond on this ugly business. Captain Paul Sender, late of the Welsh Guards, had been the obvious choice. He had bought it. Now, like a good Wykehamist, he concealed his distaste for the job beneath careful, trite conversation as he showed Bond the layout of the apartment and the arrangements that had been made for the executioner's preparedness and, to a modest extent, his comfort.


                                                                  • I'm afraid it fits, sir. The whole way along the line. We know the man. It fits him too. Right up his street. And it doesn't even matter who's paying him. He can pay himself, make a fortune. All he has to do is go a bear of sterling or Gilt-Edged. If Mr Franklin's right, and that Senate paper's pretty solid backing for him, our currency'll literally go through the floor - and the country with it.'


                                                                    Soon, the seven of us—Scott, Luis, Eric, Jenn, Billy, Barefoot Ted, and I—were on the pine-needled trail that Caballo had taken me on before. We came out of the tree canopy just as the sunwas breaking over the giant standing stones, making us squint as the world turned to gold. Mistand glittering droplets swirled around us.



                                                                                                  • 'Oh, well, I never really believed. You know these old family stories.'19 Love for Breakfast


                                                                                                    AND INDIA.