"Thanks. Trouble is, I'm not all that much in England. And thanks for spotting for me." Bond glanced at the distant clock tower. On either side, the red danger flag and the red signal drum were coming down to show that firing had ceased. The hands stood at nine-fifteen. "I'd like to buy you a drink, but I've got an appointment in London. Can we hold it over until that Queen's Prize you were talking about?"
Tourist centre now. Got a house made out of whisky bottles. Used to be the railhead where the stuff got shipped to the coast. Well, Spang bought himself one of the old locos, one of the old 'Highland Lights' if y'ever heard of the engine, and one of the first Pullman state coaches, and he keeps them there in the station at Spectreville and weekends he takes his pals for a run into Rhyolite and back. Drives the train himself. Champagne and caviar, orchestra, girls-the works. Must be something. But I never seen it. Ya can't get near the place. Yessir," the driver let down the side window and spat emphatically into the road, "that's how Mister Spang spends his money. Daft, like I said."C隶!钜(鉁?s画G&}jO馔5BdJ颮曪Q'\U忈+窨姁?J$璕bs憣詫 E民V"撥h迱`雯H?nh竂GU)>疷 \,d=j颇a权"抜^c?S砧?萐蚾鴡襅?63g￡+涊蝭檄ih乏荢嶰3
Tensely Bond stepped closer to the fitted cupboard beside the door, softly opened it. Yes, it came from inside the cupboard, from behind a range of sports coats that reached down to the top of three banks of drawers. Sharply Bond swept the coats aside. His jaws clenched at what,was behind them.
He is tall and solidly built, looking somewhat younger than his 38 years, and though his demeanor has an edge of shyness to it, Moriarty's penetrating eyes reveal that much is going on beneath the surface. Asked about his personal views on Vietnam, the actor replies, "I'm not an intellectual, so I have no specific feelings about it." But his conversation soon reveals him to be a deep thinker and a wit besides, whose remarks are tempered as much by humility as by professional instinct.
Bramble knew all the top names in the running-theory field, which wasn’t hard since they could fitaround a diner booth. Louis Liebenberg from Noordhoek he’d never heard of.
They scrambled down a steep cliff-path to the beach and turned to the right beside the deserted small-arms range of the Royal Marine Garrison at Deal. They walked along in silence until they came to the two-mile stretch of shingle that runs at low tide beneath the towering white cliffs to St Margaret's Bay.
"My God!" he said when he had figured out the thousands of men who had come to the front, from these so-called Indian territories, to maintain the existence of the nation, "If we in the South had known that you had turned those Indian territories into great States, we never should have gone into this war." The incident throws a light upon the state of mind of men in the South, even of well educated men in the South, at the outbreak of the War. They might, of course, have known by statistics that great States had grown up in the North-west, representing a population of millions and able themselves to put into the field armies to be counted by the thousand. They might have realised that these great States of the North-west were vitally concerned with the necessity of keeping the Mississippi open for their trade from its source to the Gulf of Mexico. They might have known that those States, largely settled from New England, were absolutely opposed to slavery. This knowledge was within their reach but they had not realised the facts of the case. It was their feeling that in the coming contest they would have to do only with New England and the Middle States and they felt that they were strong enough to hold their own against this group of opponents. That feeling would have been justified. The South could never have been overcome and the existence of the nation could never have been maintained if it had not been for the loyal co-operation and the magnificent resources of men and of national wealth that were contributed to the cause by the States of the North-west. In 1880, I had occasion, in talking to the two thousand students of the University of Minnesota, to recall the utterance of the old planter. The students of that magnificent University, placed in a beautiful city of two hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, found it difficult on their part to realise, amidst their laughter at the ignorance of the old planter, just what the relations of the South had been before the War to the new free communities of the North-west.