56891_007之Goldfinger 金手指等390个文件_

锘挎澀宸炴补鍘嬫寜鎽?
Stafford unmoved, “I happen to know that Colonel Villiers’ man was sent in all haste for his physician, Sir George Waters, at such an unconscionable hour this morning that Sir George despatched the apothecary in his stead, and the apothecary found our fire-eating Colonel 鏉窞淇濆仴娌瑰帇 roaring

鏉窞妗戞嬁鎸夋懇浣撻獙

in a fit of the most violent gout ’tis possible to imagine. So violent, indeed, that poor Mr. Wigginbotham was soundly beat by the Colonel for not being Sir George. Villiers’ foot is as large as a pumpkin, old Foulks tells me; I had it all from Foulks over a 鏉窞娲楁荡24灏忔椂 glass of water in the Pump Room this morning, and zooks, sir, his false teeth rattled in his head as he tried to describe to me the awful language Colonel Villiers was using. He’s to be Villiers’ second, you know, but he swore ’twas impossible, rank impossible, for any man to put such a foot to the ground.”

They 鏉窞娲楁荡澶ч厭搴?were rounding the corner of Hammer’s Fields as he spoke, and Stafford’s eyes roaming over the green expanse of grass rested upon the little group drawn up towards the entrance gate.

“Unless,” he went on, “the Colonel comes upon crutches. No, zounds!

鏉窞姘寸(鍏ㄥ

ha, ha! 鏉窞spa鎸夋懇 Jasper I will always love you, man, for the capital jokes you have provided of late. Strike me ugly if the old fellow has not come鈥攊n a bath-chair!”

“Really,” said Lord Markham, “this is very irregular. I have never before been privy to a duel where one of the combatants 鏉窞娲楁荡涓績鍏ㄥ浠锋牸 fought in a chair. And I am not sure that I can undertake the responsibility of concluding arrangements in such circumstances.”

“Blasted nonsense!” said Sir Jasper with all his former urbanity of demeanour. He flung the reins to his man as he spoke, and clambered down from the curricle. Stafford had gone 鏉窞姘寸(鏈嶅姟椤圭洰 before him to the gate and was now stamping from one foot to another in exquisite enjoyment of the situation.

“(Ha, ha, ha!) Hello! Morning, Colonel, sorry to see you this way! (Ha, ha!) Have you brought another bath-chair for our man? Oh come, yes. ‘Twon’t be 鏉窞妗戞嬁鎸夋懇浼氭墍璁哄潧 fair if he do not sit in a bath-chair too! Say, Foulks, you wheel one chair, I’ll wheel the other, and we will run them one at the other and let them fire as soon as they please. Gad, what a joke!”

Colonel Villiers turned upon his volatile friend a countenance the colour 鏉窞妗戞嬁涓績600闅忎究鐜?of which presented some resemblance to a well-defined bruise on the third day; it was yellow and green with pain where it was not purple with fury.

“Mr. Stafford, sir, these jokes, sir, are vastly out of place. (Curse this foot!) Mr. Foulks, have the kindness to explain…. Major Topham, explain to 鏉窞妗戞嬁鐖?these gentlemen that I have come out to fight, sir, and that fight I will, by the living jingo!” He struck the arm of the chair in his fury, gave his suffering foot a nasty jar and burst into a howl of rage and agony.

“Stap me,” said Stafford, “I’d as soon fight an 鏉窞姘寸(鍦伴潰 old bear! Whisper, Foulks, is he going to shoot in his cage鈥攂eg pardon, I mean his chair?”

“Such is his intention,” said Mr. Foulks, grinning nervously as he spoke, and showing the set of fine Bond Street ivory already referred to by Mr. Stafford. “But it strikes me it is somewhat irregular.”

“S

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