|类似神魔大陆的手游|侯鸿涛|The News

"… pumping the flaming fuel through the motor out of the stern of the rocket into the exhaust pit. Gigantic heat… 3500 degrees…"

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As he talks on in his breezy New York accent, fidgeting with a gold matchbox on the antique table beside him, Maas seems barely able to restrain himself from getting up and pacing the room. Quite striking in appearance, he is a tall, stocky man with a Brillo-pad thatch of silvery hair and eyebrows like cotton batting. A native Manhattanite, he was one of the country's top investigative reporters for many years before writing his first book, The Rescuer, in 1967.

It was an iron routine. Strangways was a man of iron routine. Unfortunately, strict patterns of behaviour can be deadly if they are read by an enemy.The man on the ground suddenly felt lonely. "Totsiens," he said with a wave of the hand that was almost the wave of a lover. "Alles van die beste." He stood back and held a hand up to his eyes against the dust. 'Along o' you! It an't along o' you!' said Mr. Peggotty. 'Don't ye believe a bit on it.' Mary Goodnight broke in, horrified. "James. The rest is your business, but you really can't say that last bit."

"I don't think it's business, Penny," he said. "Just sent for him out of the blue." He went back into his own room and got on with the day's work.

Bond laughed. He laughed with real pleasure that her fear had been drowned in the basic predicament of clothes and how to behave, and he laughed at the picture they made-she in her rags and he in his dirty blue shirt and black jeans and muddy canvas shoes.

"Just to make my number, sir," said Bond equably. "I'm here on the Strangways case. I think you had a signal front the Secretary of State." This was a reminder that the people behind Bond were powerful people. Bond didn't like attempts to squash him or his Service.