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〃Well； you didn't get it。〃 He slammed the receiver back； irritated by what appeared to be a misrouted call。
Later in the afternoon； he telephoned his date； a favourite blonde stewardess with British Airways； to cancel their evening out。 Instead of dinner for two at the Connaught； Bond went alone to Veeraswamy's； that most excellent Indian restaurant in Swallow Street； where he ate a chicken vindaloo with all the trimmings； lingered over his coffee； then paid the bill and left on the dot of nine…fifteen。 The magnificent uniformed and bearded doorman gave him a quivering salute； then loudly hailed a cab。 Bond tipped the doorman and gave the driver his home address； but at the top of St。 James's he paid off the taxi and set out on foot； to follow an apparently aimless route； turning into side streets； crossing roads suddenly； doubling back on himself a number of times； loitering at corners； making certain he was not being followed。
Eventually； clinging to this devious routine； he ended up in a doorway near St。 Martin's Lane。 For two minutes Bond stood looking up at a lighted window across the road。 At precisely ten o'clock the oblong of light turned black； then lit again； went black； lit and stayed on。
Quickly Bond crossed the road。 He disappeared through another doorway； took a narrow flight of stairs； went across a landing and up four more steps to a door labelled Rich Photography Ltd。 Models available。 When he pressed the small button to the right of the lintel the chimes associated with a well…known brand of cosmetics ding…donged from far away inside。 There were faint footsteps and the click of bolts being drawn。
The door opened to reveal Bill Tanner who nodded； indicating that Bond should enter。 He followed Tanner along a small passage； its paint work peeling and with a cloying smell of cheap scent hanging in the air； and through the door at the far end。 The room was very small and cluttered。 A bed partially masked by a hideously patterned coverlet stood in one corner； and a mangy teddy bear lounged on a bright orange； heart…shaped imitation silk nightdress case。 A small wardrobe faced the bed； its door half open； displaying a pathetic row of women's clothes。 The tiny dressing table was crammed with bottles and jars of cosmetics。 Above a popping gas fire； a print of The Green Lady looked down from a plastic frame upon a pair of easy chairs which would not have been out of place in a child's Wendy house。
〃e in； 007。 Glad to see you can do simple mathematics。〃 The figure in one of the chairs turned； and Bond found himself looking into the familiar cold grey eyes of his Head of Service。
Tanner closed the door and crossed to a table on which were set several bottles and glasses。
〃Good to see you； sir；' Bond said with a smile； holding out a hand。 〃Seven and three equals ten。 Even I can manage that。〃
〃Nobody in tow？〃 the Chief…of…Staff asked anxiously； sidling towards the window which Bond had viewed from the far side of the street。
〃Not unless they've got a team of a hundred or so footpads and about twenty cars on me。 The traffic's as thick as treacle tonight。
Always bad on Thursdays … late night shopping； and the muters staying up to meet their wives and girlfriends。〃 The telephone gave a good old…fashioned ring and Tanner got to it in two strides。
〃Yes；' he said； then； again； 〃Yes 。 。 。 Good Right。〃 Replacing the receiver； he looked up with a smile。 〃He's clear； sir。 All the way。〃
〃I told you 。 。 。 〃 Bond began； but Tanner cut him short with an invitation to take a gin and tonic with them。 Bond scowled； shaking his head。 〃I've had enough alcohol to float several small ships in the past few weeks。
〃So we all noticed； M grunted。
〃Your instructions； sir。 I could remind you that I said at the outset nothing would e of it。 Nobody in our business would even begin to believe I'd left the Service； just like that。 The silence has been deafening。〃 M grunted again。 〃Sit down； 007。 Sit down and listen。
The silence has not been so deafening。 On the contrary； the isle is full of noises； only you have been on a different frequency。 I'm afraid we've kept you in the dark； but it was necessary … that is； until we had established to the various intelligence munities that you were persona non grata as far as we're concerned。 Forget what we told you during our last meeting。 Now we have the real target。 Look at this picture … and at this； and this。〃 Like an experienced poker player； M laid out three photographs； of one man and two women。
〃The man；' he said at last； 〃is presumed dead。 His name was Dr Jay Autem Holy。〃 M's finger touched one photograph； then moved on to the next。 〃This lady is his widow； and this' … the finger prodded towards the third photograph … 〃this is the same lady。 Looks so different that should her husband e back from the dead； which is on the cards； he would never recognise her。〃 M picked up the final photograph。 〃She will give you the details。 In fact； she'll give you a little training as well。
She answers to the name of Proud。 Persephone Proud。
His。〃 Proud was plump； with mousy brown hair； thick lensed spectacles； thin lips and a sharp nose too big for her rather chubby face。 At least that was how she looked in the photograph taken some years ago when she was married to Jay Autem Holy。 M maintained that Bond would not recognise her now either。 That did not surprise him when he studied the third photograph。
You're sending me on another course？〃 Bond mused rather absently without looking up。
〃Something like that。 She's waiting for you now。
〃Yes？〃
〃In Monaco。 Monte Carlo。 Hotel de Paris。 Now listen carefully； 007。 There's a good deal for you to absorb； and I want you on the road early next week。 You must； naturally； still consider yourself as one cast into outer darkness。 But this is what we； together with our American cousins； planned from the start。
M talked earnestly for about fifteen minutes； allowing no interruptions； before Bond was escorted through another elaborate security routine to get him safely clear of the building and on his way home in a taxi without being followed。 Not for the first time； Bond had been given another life； a double identity。 But of the many dubious parts he had played for his country； this was to appear more than any as a role of dishonour。
PROUD PERCY
BOND PARTICULARLY enjoyed the drive through France； down to the South； for it was the first time he had been able to let the huge Mulsanne Turbo off the leash。 The car seemed to revel in the business of doing its job with perfection。 Bentley had certainly produced another true thoroughbred from their stable。 The Mulsanne pushed its long； elegant snout forward； and then； like some runner in peak condition； gathered itself together； effortlessly reaching well in excess of the 100 miles per hour mark and eating up road without fuss or noise； as if it were floating over the tarmac on a silent cushion of air。
Bond had left London early on the Monday morning； and he had been told His Proud would be in the Casino each evening； from the Tuesday； between ten and eleven。
At a little after six on Tuesday the Mulsanne