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Inspirasi Kediri Bertutur

                                                        • 'Come! It's not fair to abuse my confidence,' I answered, reddening at the recollection of my blue enslaver. 'But I shall confide in you, just the same, Agnes. I can never grow out of that. Whenever I fall into trouble, or fall in love, I shall always tell you, if you'll let me - even when I come to fall in love in earnest.'
                                                          "What about this practice shoot?' asked Bond.

                                                                                                              • Bond was amused. This social sniffing at him had been done with just the right casual touch of the tycoon who didn't really care if Bond was alive or dead but, since he was there and alive, might as well place him in an approximate category.

                                                                                                                Da giebt es einen guten Klang.
                                                                                                                The fear of pain was slight;

                                                                                                                 

                                                                                                                THE OLD HOME BROKEN UP

                                                                                                                The next thing I knew I was wide awake. I lay for a moment remembering where I was. There was a lull in the wind, and it was very quiet. I found I was lying on my back. That was what had awakened me! I lay for a moment looking across the room at the square of red high up on the opposite wall. The moon was out again. How deathly quiet it was! The silence was warm and embracing after the hours of storm. I began to feel drowsy and I turned over on my side so that I lay facing into the room. I closed my eyes. But, as sleep held out her hands to me again, something nagged at my mind. My eyes, before I had closed them, had noticed something unusual in the room. Unwillingly, I opened them again. It took minutes to recognize again what I had seen. The faintest chinks of light were shining from between the door frames of the clothes cupboard up against the opposite wall.
                                                                                                                'Then don't find fault with me,' said Dora, making a rosebud of her mouth; 'and I'll be good.'
                                                                                                                'My father came from the Highlands, from near Glencoe. But look here…'

                                                                                                                                                                    • An animated speaker who makes sweeping gestures, she still has the crystalline voice and flawless enunciation that enabled her to make the transition from silent films to talkies and Broadway shows in the early 1930s. The 1978 Robert Altman film A Wedding marked her 100th screen appearance.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                          • He shrugged. "We thought of all that. It was a calculated risk, and it's those I'm paid for taking." He smiled. "Anyway, here I am. But it wasn't nice walking down that street, and I was glad to get inside. The Mounties had taken over the flat opposite to Boris, and I knew I was all right and simply had to play the tethered goat while the sportsmen shot the wild game. I could have stayed out of the flat, hidden somewhere in the building until it was all over, but I had a hunch that the goat must be a real goat, and I was right, because at eleven o'clock the telephone rang and a man's voice said. 'Is that Mr. Boris?' giving his assumed name. I said, 'Yes. Who is dat?' trying to sound foreign, and the man said, 'Thank you. Telephone Directory here. We're just checking the subscribers in your district. Night.' I said good night and thanked my stars I had been there to take the bogus call that was to make sure Boris was at home.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            • W—— A— — Merivale, and I formed a little club, which we called the Tramp Society, and subjected to certain rules, in obedience to which we wandered on foot about the counties adjacent to London. Southampton was the furthest point we ever reached; but Buckinghamshire and Hertfordshire were more dear to us. These were the happiest hours of my then life — and perhaps not the least innocent, although we were frequently in peril from the village authorities whom we outraged. Not to pay for any conveyance, never to spend above five shillings a day, to obey all orders from the elected ruler of the hour (this enforced under heavy fines), were among our statutes. I would fain tell here some of our adventures:— how A—— enacted an escaped madman and we his pursuing keepers, and so got ourselves a lift in a cart, from which we ran away as we approached the lunatic asylum; how we were turned out of a little town at night, the townsfolk frightened by the loudness of our mirth; and how we once crept into a hayloft and were wakened in the dark morning by a pitchfork — and how the juvenile owner of that pitchfork fled through the window when he heard the complaints of the wounded man! But the fun was the fun of W—— A— — and would cease to be fun as told by me.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  • "Ha!" said Mr. Hendriks noncommittally. James Bond moved away from the door. He heard Scaramanga's passkey in the lock. He looked up and yawned. Scaramanga and Mr. Hendriks looked down at him. Their expressions were vaguely interested and reflective. It was as if he were a bit of steak and they were wondering whether to have it done rare or medium rare.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        • Bond knelt down on one knee and went carefully through every pocket of Krebs's neat grey pinstripe suit, laying the disappointingly meagre contents on the carpet beside the body. There was no pocketbook and no papers. The only objects of interest were a bunch of skeleton keys, a spring knife with a well-sharpened stiletto blade, and an obscene little truss-shaped black leather cosh. Bond pocketed these and then went to his bedside table and fetched the untouched bottle of Vichy water.