The car went back over the Galata Bridge and drew up outside the vaulted arcades of the Spice Bazaar. The chauffeur led the way up the shallow worn steps and into the fog of exotic scents, shouting curses at the beggars and sack-laden porters. Inside the entrance the chauffeur turned left out of the steam of shuffling, jabbering humanity and showed Bond a small arch in the thick wall. Turret-like stone steps curled upwards.

For a moment Bond lay motionless.
Nash took the gun and weighed it professionally in his hand. He clicked the safe on and off.
'That's enough,' said Le Chiffre. 'Tie his arms and put him in the car. Here,' he threw a roll of flex to the man. 'Empty his pockets first and give me his gun. He may have got some other weapons, but we can get them later.'
If I had been round the world since we parted, we could hardly have been better pleased to meet again. My aunt cried outright as she embraced me; and said, pretending to laugh, that if my poor mother had been alive, that silly little creature would have shed tears, she had no doubt.
"All right," said Bond. He paused. He looked at Drax and not at his hand. "Redouble. The contract and the side-bets. ?400 a trick on the side."
He dislikes excessive terminology. "I used to be a dance director," he says in mock lament. "Now I have become a choreographer. Choreographer is the wrong title. Because dance is like poetry, see?"
The blubbery arms of the soft life had Bond round the neck and they were slowly strangling him. He was a man of war and when, for a long period, there was no war, his spirit went into a decline.
"And then there's Shady," she went on. "He's not a bad guy really, except he's so crooked, you shake hands with him you better count your fingers afterwards. He looks after the cat-houses and the dope and the rest of the stuff. There are plenty of other fellers-hoodlums of one sort and another. Tough operators." She looked at him and her eyes hardened. "You'll get to know them," she sneered. "You'll like them. Just your type-"
鈥楧r. Weitbrecht had arranged everything for yesterday most beautifully. The whole Service was, I think, in perfect accordance with her wishes; simple, sweet, and solemn, yet with an element of joy and hope about it, which was suitable to her bright, joyous nature. We could indeed give thanks for the fight she had fought, the course she had finished, the crown she had won; and so we laid her down,鈥攖ill the Day break and the shadows flee away. 鈥淭ill He come!鈥濃€
A week later, James Bond regained consciousness. He was in a green-shaded room. He was under water. The slowly revolving fan in the ceiling was the screw of a ship that was about to run him down. He swam for his life. But it was no good. He was tied down, anchored to the bottom of the sea. He screamed at the top of his lungs. To the nurse at the end of the bed it was the whisper of a moan. At once she was beside him. She put a cool hand on his forehead. While she took his pulse, James Bond looked up at her with unfocused eyes. So this was what a mermaid looked like! He muttered "You're pretty," and gratefully swam back down into her arms.
Doogan's Deli

类似于花园战争的手游|From the Deli

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