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~::梗豆物语私服|Jimena Carranza::~

~::梗豆物语私服|Jimena Carranza::~



                                      'He was a beggar, perhaps.'M interjected sourly. "All these people seem to have a hell of a lot of money to throw about on their damned birds."


                                      'And I don't regret it,' said Mr. Barkis. 'Do you remember what you told me once, about her making all the apple parsties and doing all the cooking?'Now a dull fire burned in Goldfinger's big pale eyes and there was a touch of extra colour in his red-brown cheeks. But it was still calm, relaxed, profoundly convinced. There's no trace here, reflected Bond, of the madman, the visionary. Goldfinger had some fantastic exploit in mind, but he had gauged the odds and knew they were right. Bond said, 'Well, come on. What is it, and what do we have to do about it?'


                                                                        Now, as Bond swung the little car down the endless S-bends towards the North Shore, he regretted the gibe. M wouldn't like it. It was cheap. It wasted cipher groups. Oh well! Bond swerved to avoid a thundering red bus with 'Brownskin Gal' on the destination plate. He had just wanted M to know that it hadn't quite been a holiday in the sun. He would apologize when he sent in his written report.


                                                                        "Really?" Bond kept his eyes bent on his hands.鈥業 really hope that it may do good for it to be known through Batala that, in a manly game, the Hindus and Muhammadans 鈥渃annot hold a candle鈥 to the Christian boys, who go preaching and singing hymns on Sunday! Piety is all the more attractive from union with manliness.



                                                                                                          She was so true, she was so beautiful, she was so good, - I owed her so much gratitude, she was so dear to me, that I could find no utterance for what I felt. I tried to bless her, tried to thank her, tried to tell her (as I had often done in letters) what an influence she had upon me; but all my efforts were in vain. My love and joy were dumb.'It was the first unhappiness of my new life,' said Annie. 'It was the first occasion of every unhappy moment I have known. These moments have been more, of late, than I can count; but not - my generous husband! - not for the reason you suppose; for in my heart there is not a thought, a recollection, or a hope, that any power could separate from you!'


                                                                                                          AND INDIA.