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~::龙啸蝴蝶传奇sf|Jimena Carranza::~

~::龙啸蝴蝶传奇sf|Jimena Carranza::~




                                                                          "Now then," said Drax grimly. "Let's get this over without any fuss. The good Krebs is an artist with one of those things. We used to call him Der Zwangsmann-The Persuader. I shall never forget the way he went over the last spy we caught together. Just south of the Rhine, wasn't it, Krebs?"'And your shirts,' said Miss Murdstone; 'have you brought 'em home?'


                                                                                                                                                They went up the steps. Inside, the big room was decorated in white with pink muslin swags over the windows. There were pink lights on the tables. The restaurant was crowded with sunburned people in expensive tropical get-ups . - brilliant garish shirts, jangling gold bangles, dark glasses with jewelled rims, cute native straw hats. There was a confusion of scents. The wry smell of bodies that had been all day in the sun came through.Caballo led us over to the tiny house where he and I had eaten the day we met. We all squeezedinto Mamá’s living room as her daughter jammed two tables together. Luis and his dad duckedacross the street and returned with two big bags of beer. Jenn and Billy took a few sips of Tecateand began to perk up. We all raised our beers and clinked cans with Caballo. Then he turned to meand got down to business. Suddenly, the oath on the bridge made sense.


                                                                                                                                                'Yes! Agnes, my dear girl!' I said, bending over her. 'I tried to tell you, when we met today, something that has been in my thoughts since Dora died. You remember, when you came down to me in our little room - pointing upward, Agnes?'



                                                                                                                                                                                                                      What had happened? Had he gone blind? He could see nothing. His eyes were stinging and there was a horrible fish taste in his mouth. But he could feel the wire cutting into the tendons behind his knees. So he must be alive! Dazedly Bond let go the spear from his trailing hand and reached up and felt for the nearest strand of wire. He got a hold and reached up his other hand and slowly, agonizingly, pulled himself up so that he was sitting in the fence. Streaks of light came into his eyes. He wiped a hand across his face. Now he could see. He gazed at his hand. It was black and sticky. He looked down at his body. It was covered with black slime, and blackness stained the sea for twenty yards around. Then Bond realized. The wounded squid had emptied its ink sac at him.'A hundred and five pounds a year,' said my mother.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                      AND INDIA.