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~::私服怪物文件名|Jimena Carranza::~

~::私服怪物文件名|Jimena Carranza::~



                                                            • Violet, the fourth at their table, said demurely that she wouldn't have another Coke. 'They give me wind,' she explained.


                                                              Bond took his time, then went out and followed the man to the end door. The man opened it without knocking and closed it behind Bond. Marc-Ange, his creased walnut face split by his great golden-toothed smile, got up from his desk (Bond was getting tired of desks!), trotted across the broad room, threw his arms round Bond's neck and kissed him squarely on both cheeks. Bond suppressed his recoil and gave a reassuring pat to Marc-Ange's broad back. Marc-Ange stood away and laughed. 'All right! I swear never to do it again. It is once and for ever. Yes? But it had to come out - from the Latin temperament, isn't it? You forgive me? Good. Then come and take a drink' - he waved at a loaded sideboard - 'and sit down and tell me what I can do for you. I swear not to talk about Teresa until you have finished with your business. But tell me' - the brown eyes pleaded - 'it is all right between you? You have not changed your mind?'Bond stiffened. His eyes looked resentfully into M's. The licence to kill for the Secret Service, the double-o prefix, was a great honour. It had been earned hardly. It brought Bond the only assignments he enjoyed, the dangerous ones. "No, I wouldn't, sir."


                                                                                                                        • ‘Over an hour.’Miss C. You are a very impudent fellow, to ask a gentle—woman if she paints. Do I look as if I painted?


                                                                                                                          'My life!' said Mr. Micawber, taking her in his arms. 'I am perfectly aware of it.'After my irreparable loss, one of my earliest cares was to print and publish the treatise, so much of which was the work of her whom I had lost, and consecrate it to her memory. I have made no alteration or addition to it, nor shall I ever. Though it wants the last touch of her hand, no substitute for that touch shall ever be attempted by mine.



                                                                                                                                                                                    • 'First of all,' and he inhaled a thick lungful of Caporal, 'you will be pleased with your Number Two. She is very beautiful' - Bond frowned - 'very beautiful indeed.' Satisfied with Bond's reaction, Mathis continued: 'She has black hair, blue eyes, and splendid . . . er . . . protuberances. Back and front,' he added. 'And she is a wireless expert which, though sexually less interesting, makes her a perfect employee of Radio Stentor and assistant to myself in my capacity as wireless salesman for this rich summer season down here.' He grinned. 'We are both staying in the hotel and my assistant will thus be on hand in case your new radio breaks down. All new machines, even French ones, are apt to have teething troubles in the first day or two. And occasionally at night,' he added with an exaggerated wink.* * *


                                                                                                                                                                                      AND INDIA.