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能玩孢子世界的游戏盒子|Sanayi Makineleri
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能玩孢子世界的游戏盒子|Sanayi Makineleri

                                                                          • Bond looked at his watch. "Ten to six."能玩孢子世界的游戏盒子

                                                                                                                                                  • 鈥楧ecember 2, 1875.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                          • 'Don't see why not. But' - Sable Basilisk was apologetic -'would you mind 'if I got clearance from Garter King of Arms? He's my boss, so to speak, under the Duke of Norfolk that is, the Earl Marshal, and I can't remember that we've ever been mixed up in this sort of cloak-and-dagger stuff before. Actually' - Sable Basilisk waved a deprecating hand -'we are, we have to be, damned meticulous. You do see that, don't you?'

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  • `All right, old man, only don't scratch your ear while I'm talking. Or I'll shoot it off. See? Well, SMERSH decided to kill you-at least I gather it was decided even higher up, right at the top. Seems they want to take one good hard poke at the Secret Service-bring them down a peg or two. Follow me?'

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          • Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame;

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  • “There are some officers on before us,” said one of the young ladies, “I wonder is Captain Montgomery among them!” “I quite long to see him, I understand he is so handsome,” said a third lady. “He seems to be a general favourite with the ladies,” said the younger officer: “he is to be married shortly, I hear, to Lady Susan Morven: luck that! she has fifty thousand, I’m told.” “To Lady Julia L?, I have heard,” interposed the elder officer. “I beg your pardon,” said the fat lady, “Lady Julia L? is to be married immediately to the Marquis of H?.” “A more suitable match, no doubt,” replied the elder officer; “but heiresses will sometimes please themselves, you know; and I have[349] heard, that Lady Julia L? has been attached to Captain Montgomery from her infancy; and that she is determined to marry him in spite of all her friends, as soon as she shall be of age.” Just at this particular moment, Edmund found the impelling torrent press so weightily against his fair companion, that it was absolutely imperative upon him to draw her closer to himself than she had been.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          • While he forced sleep to come into his teeming mind, Bond visualized the figure seven on the dial of a clock and left it to the hidden cells of his memory to wake him. He wanted to be out of the house and on the telephone to Vallance as early as possible. If his actions aroused suspicion he would not be dismayed. One of his objects was to attract into his orbit the same forces that had concerned themselves with Tallon, for of one thing he felt reasonably certain, Major Tallon had not died because he loved Gala Brand.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  • A bustle of waiters round their table saved Bond having to think up a reply. With ceremony, a wide silver dish of crabs, big ones, their shells and claws broken, was placed in the middle of the table. A silver sauceboat brimming with melted butter and a long rack of toast was put beside each of their plates. The tankards of champagne frothed pink. Finally, with an oily smirk, the head waiter came behind their chairs and, in turn, tied round their necks long white silken bibs that reached down to the lap.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          • I have to acknowledge that I found myself unfit for work on a newspaper. I had not taken to it early enough in life to learn its ways and bear its trammels. I was fidgety when any work was altered in accordance with the judgment of the editor, who, of course, was responsible for what appeared. I wanted to select my own subjects — not to have them selected for me; to write when I pleased — and not when it suited others. As a permanent member of the staff I was of no use, and after two or three years I dropped out of the work.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  • "Bond," said M. "James Bond. Yes, I think we'd like that very much. What do you say, James?"

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          • The girl was sitting by herself, with half a bottle of Bol-linger in front of her, staring moodily at nothing. She barely looked up when Bond slipped into the chair next to hers and said, 'Well, I'm afraid our syndicate lost again. I tried to get it back. I went "avec". I should have left that brute alone. I stood on a five and he had a "buche" and then drew a nine.'



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