Casino Royale (1953)
Bond sat at the window and gathered his thoughts. Nothing that Mathis had told him was reassuring. He was completely blown and under really professional surveillance. An attempt might be made to put him away even before he had a chance to pit himself against Le Chiffre at the tables. The Russians had no stupid prejudices about murder. And then there was this pest of a girl. He sighed. Women were for recreation. On a job, they got in the way and fogged things up with sex and hurt feelings and all the emotional baggage they carried around. One had to look out for them and take care of them.
Casino Royale by Ian Fleming, at p41.
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Bond's car was his only personal hobby. One of the last of the 4 1/2-litre Bentleys with the supercharger by Amherst Villiers, he had bought it almost new in 1933 and had kept it in careful storage through the war. It was still serviced every year and, in London, a former Bentley mechanic, who worked in a garage near Bond's Chelsea flat, tended it with jealous care. Bond drove it hard and well and with an almost sensual pleasure. It was a battleship-grey convertible coupe[.]
at p44-5.
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The girl sat silent. She accepted one of Bond's cigarettes, examined it and then smoked it appreciatively and without affectation, drawing the smoke deeply into her lungs with a little sigh and then exhaling it casually through her lips and nostrils. Her movements were economical and precise with no trace of self-consciousness.
Bond felt her presence strongly. While he and Mathis talked, he turned from time to time towards her, politely including her in the conversation, but adding up the impressions recorded by each glance.
Her hair was very black and she wore it cut square and low on the nape of the neck, framing her face to below the clear and beautiful line of her jaw. Although it was heavy and moved with the movements of her head, she did not constantly pat it back into place, but let it alone. Her eyes were wide apart and deep blue and they gazed candidly back at Bond with a touch of ironical disinterest which, to his annoyance, he found he would like to shatter, roughly.
at p46-7.
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Mathis moved his chair close to hers and said softly: "That is a very good friend of mine. I am glad you have met each other. I can already feel the ice-floes on the two rivers breaking up." He smiled. "I don't think Bond has ever been melted. It will be a new experience for him. And for you."
at p49.
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"A dry martini," he said. "One. In a deep champagne goblet."
"Oui, monsieur."
"Just a moment. Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon-peel. Got it?"
at p60.
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It turned out that Leiter was from Texas. ...Bond reflected that good Americans were fine people and that most of them seemed to come from Texas.
at p63.
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"I can't drink the health of your new frock without knowing your Christian name."
"Vesper," she said. "Vesper Lynd."
Bond gave her a look of inquiry.
"It's rather a bore always having to explain, but I was born in the evening, on a very stormy evening according to my parents. Apparently they wanted to remember it." She smiled. "Some people like it, others don't. I'm just used to it."
"I think it's a fine name," said Bond. An idea struck him. "Can I borrow it?" He explained about the special martini he had invented and his search for a perfect name for it. "The Vesper," he said. "It sounds perfect... Can I have it?"
at p69-70.
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"He's a dedicated man," her chief had said when he gave her the assignment. "Don't imagine this is going to be any fun. He thinks of nothing but the job on hand, and while it's on, he's absolute hell to work for. But he's an expert and there aren't many about, so you won't be wasting your time. He's a good-looking chap, but don't fall for him. I don't think he's got much heart. Anyway, good luck and don't get hurt."
All this had been something of a challenge and she was pleased when she felt she attracted and interested him, as she knew intuitively that she did. Then at a hint that they were finding pleasure together, a hint that was only the first words of a conventional phrase, he had suddenly turned to ice and had brutally veered away as if warmth were poison to him.
at p77.
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"My dear boy," Le Chiffre spoke like a father, "the game of Red Indians is over, quite over. You have stumbled by mischance into a game for grown-ups and you have already found it a painful experience. You are not equipped, my dear boy, to play games with adults and it was very foolish of your nanny in London to have sent you out here with your spade and bucket. Very foolish indeed and most unfortunate for you."
at p140.
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He looked up at Mathis to see how bored he was getting with these introspective refinements of what, to Mathis, was a simple question of his duty.
Mathis smiled at him.
"Continue, my dear friend. It is interesting for me to see this new Bond. Englishmen are so odd. They are like a nest of Chinese boxes. It takes a very long time to get to the centre of them. When one gets there the result is unrewarding, but the process is instructive and entertaining."
at p165.
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"[W]hen you get back to London, you will find there are other Le Chiffres seeking to destroy you and your friends and your country. M. will tell you about them. And now that you have seen a really evil man, you will go after them to destroy them in order to protect yourself and the people you love. You won't wait to argue about it. You know what they look like now and what they can do to people. You may be a bit more choosy about the jobs you take on. You may want to be certain that the target really is black, but there are plenty of really black targets around. There's still plenty for you to do. And you'll do it. And when you fall in love and have a mistress or a wife and children to look after, it will seem all the easier."
Mathis opened the door and stopped on the threshold.
"Surround yourself with human beings, my dear James. They are easier to fight for than principles."
He laughed. "But don't let me down and become human yourself. We would lose such a wonderful machine."
at p168-9.
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Flowers had arrived from her. Bond didn't like flowers and he told the nurse to give them to another patient. After this had happened twice, no more flowers came. Bond had not meant to offend her. He disliked having feminine things around him. Flowers seemed to ask for recognition of the person who had sent them, to be constantly transmitting a message of sympathy and affection. Bond found this irksome. He disliked being cosseted. It gave him claustropobia.
at p170.
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Bond loved the place at first sight - the terrace leading almost to the high-tide mark, the low two-storied house with gay brick-red awnings over the windows and the crescent-shaped bay of blue water and golden sand. How many times in his life would he have given anything to have turned off a main road to find a lost corner like this where he could let the world go by and live in the sea from dawn to dusk.
at p185.
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The bath had been filled for him and there was a new flask of some expensive pine bath-essence on a chair beside with his towel.
"Vesper," he called.
"Yes?"
"You really are the limit. You make me feel like an expensive gigolo."
"I was told to look after you. I'm only doing what I was told."
"Darling, the bath's absolutely right. Will you marry me?"
She snorted. "You need a slave, not a wife."
"I want you."
"Well, I want my lobster and champagne, so hurry up."
at p193-4.
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....At our first dinner together you talked about that man in Yugoslavia who was found guilty of treason. He said: "I was carried away by the gale of the world." That's my only excuse. That, and for love of the man whose life I tried to save.
It's late now and I'm tired, and you're just through two doors. But I've got to be brave. You might save my life, but I couldn't bear the look in your dear eyes.
My love, my love.
V.
at p215.
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Bond threw the letter down. Mechanically he brushed his fingers together. Suddenly he banged his temples with his fists and stood up. For a moment he looked out towards the quiet sea, then he cursed aloud, one harsh obscenity.
His eyes were wet and he dried them.
at p215.
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He spoke quietly into the receiver.
"This is 007 speaking. This is an open line. It's an emergency. Can you hear me? Pass this on at once. 3030 was a double, working for Redland.
"Yes, dammit, I said 'was'. The bitch is dead now."
at p217-8.