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"For possession of a gun and the skill to use it enormously augments the gunner's personal power, and extends the radius of his influence and effect a thousand times beyond his arm's length. And since strength resides in the gun, the man who wields it may be less than strong without being disadvantaged. The flashing sword, the couched lance, the bent longbow performed to the limit of the man who held it. The gun's power is inherent and needs only to be released. A steady eye and an accurate aim are enough. Wherever the muzzle points, the bullet goes, bearing the gunner's wish or intention swiftly to the target. . . . Perhaps more than any other implement, the gun has shaped the course of nations and the destiny of men."

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“Castle Richmond;” “Brown, Jones, and Robinson;” “North America;” “Orley Farm”

“W. M. THACKERAY.”For a moment Bond lay motionless. "Yes," said Bond, his thoughts elsewhere. "That doesn't seem to get us anywhere. I'll have to get busy. Just one more thing. Has Drax got a place in London, flat or anything like that?" "One day that wart on his thumb will catch him out." The red wart on the first joint holding back the hammer of the gun over Tingaling Bell. And Tiffany saying, "They're screwy. The fat man's sucking his thumb!" And the two men in the Smoking Room cashing in on the death that had been arranged. The woman overboard. The alarm given anonymously in case the stern watch missed her. The ship stopped, turning, searching. And three thousand pounds extra to the killers. She had a Leica with a flash attachment in one hand. The other was in a leather case at her side. The hand came out holding a flashbulb. The girl slipped the base into her mouth to wet it and improve the contact and made to screw it into the reflector.

Chapter 5 A Crisis in My Mental History. One Stage Onward

Bond watched the old Silver Ghost sweep majestically up the drive towards the club. She was a beauty! The sun glittered off the silver radiator and off the engine-turned aluminium shield below the high perpendicular glass cliff of the windscreen. The luggage rail on the roof of the heavy coach-built limousine body - so ugly twenty years ago, so strangely beautiful today - was polished brass, as were the two Lucas 'King of the Road' headlamps that stared so haughtily down the road ahead, and the wide mouth of the old boa-constrictor bulb horn. The whole car, except for a black roof and black carrosserie lines and curved panels below the windows, was primrose yellow. It crossed Bond's mind that the South

'I am not so unreasonable as to expect,' said Agnes, resuming her usual tone, after a little while, 'that you will, or that you can, at once, change any sentiment that has become a conviction to you; least of all a sentiment that is rooted in your trusting disposition. You ought not hastily to do that. I only ask you, Trotwood, if you ever think of me - I mean,' with a quiet smile, for I was going to interrupt her, and she knew why, 'as often as you think of me - to think of what I have said. Do you forgive me for all this?'

“Beautiful! beautiful!” exclaimed Edmund[10] at the same moment, meaning, probably, Julia’s singing, but certainly not his own.