A new chair was brought and he sat down. He looked across at Le Chiffre. Through his relief at being alive, he felt a moment of triumph at what he saw - some fear in the fat, pale face.
There was a rattle of applause round the room. The cameras had swiveled to a youngish man, one of three on a raised platform to the left of the auctioneer who were speaking softly into telephones. Mr. Snowman commented, "That's one of Sotheby's young men. He'll be on an open line to America. I should think that's the Metropolitan bidding, but it might be anybody. Now it's time for me to get to work." Mr. Snowman flicked up his rolled catalog.[症(呾橗`笫巂 垛I9恅@8順jNbV8?`F.朗犁糮;J>Sk%qX`?; yrq8#;鴭芏?訒p=酈榗攘2@軀?鯇伶~妖 仌喵G燓泮@?$d(鱀=?0[U猾>嚶5ㄐ＃ 缦-P2G櫥觖Y痫籐莋€'竵?坾笑g$愶 稱鯊ya孺 巸n尧0F漰-鳯6#lG)乚毫號a榝鍲dfFeAN憹`蹺幈伆 |3 d鮿弦惿O呲C瀕昁#q;N蛨X轅近B涿漁€8(钚?蒅尮 ?も酷佭旲堽靉C螩卌8鐵~瞶w繶Y哓~匡虨aW`8滬縧 H婭帾s铓-O努踓ずyn?pf鞼zaZs議c鵍cSI劤? 蘙 @/鍬A渜(^蠓剄;"怢 `l仫塙钦駇燮4襥倛灠睋98渖泥168'脡SW。T刋€?擊彁晡;鍴8撒啮糞煲怞/潼灮Cf吔`戕t五cX 欭"/倇飘I`傈尕[喽YBvV垭=&氼dy⒍`fm?_C鳱婔5俅z83:?諼W/摀*-烉艦?d蜗槦堺釦7壾qsN@?麲瑀1醧?;橳躇埍箊 贞柡賸`掽柍]v?峑謡g?}*}Dw>&l%獿7€Dk8辤€b 尷阩k甁搗v
Bond verified that his room had been searched at some time during the morning-and by an expert. He always used a Hoffritz safety razor patterned on the old-fashioned heavy-toothed Gillette type. His American friend Felix Leiter had once bought him one in New York to prove that they were the best, and Bond had stayed with them. The handle of a safety razor is a reasonably sophisticated hideout for the minor tools of espionage-codes, microdot developers, cyanide, and other pills. That morning Bond had set a minute nick on the screw base of the handle in line with the "Z" of the maker's name engraved on the shaft. The nick was now a millimetre to the right of the "Z." None of his other little traps-handkerchiefs with indelible dots in particular places arranged in a certain order, the angle of his suitcase with the wall of the wardrobe, the semi-extracted lining of the breast pocket of his spare suit, the particular symmetry of certain dents in his tube of Macleans toothpaste-had been bungled or disturbed. They all might have been by a meticulous servant, a trained valet. But Jamaican servants, for all their charm and willingness, are not of this calibre. No. Between nine and ten, when Bond was doing his rounds and was well away from the hotel, his room had received a thorough going-over by someone who knew his business.
鈥楾he one thing which was not liked by some people about her was that she had an extreme disgust of Natives taking to English dress, which she invariably designated 鈥渦gly.鈥 She regretted on several occasions that her age and habits did not allow of her adopting the 鈥済raceful dopatta鈥 (head cover) in preference to her hat....
'That's not an answer, sir,' said Mr. Creakle, 'to my remark. I expect more than that from you, Steerforth.'