Inspirasi Kediri Bertutur

                                                          'But how has all this come on your plate?' Bond was now getting drowsy. It was four o'clock and the horizon of jagged grey, porcelain-shingled roof-tops was lightening. He poured down the last of the sake. It had the flat taste of too much. It was time he was in bed. But Tiger was obviously obsessed with this lunatic business, and subtle, authentic glimpses of Japan were coming through the ridiculous, nightmare story with its undertones of Poe, Le Fanu, Bram Stoker, Ambrose Bierce.
                                                          The management of the Treasury, a responsibility hardly less in importance under the war conditions than that of the organisation of the armies, was placed in the hands of Senator Chase. He received from his precursor an empty treasury while from the administration came demands for immediate and rapidly increasing weekly supplies of funds. The task came upon him first of establishing a national credit and secondly of utilising this credit for loans such as the civilised world had not before known. The expenditures extended by leaps and bounds until by the middle of 1864 they had reached the sum of ,000,000 a day. Blunders were made in large matters and in small, but, under the circumstances, blunders were not to be avoided and the chief purpose was carried out. A sufficient credit was established, first with the citizens at home and later with investors abroad, to make a market for the millions of bonds in the two great issues, the so-called seven-thirties and five-twenties. The sales of these bonds, together with a wide-reaching and, in fact, unduly complex system of taxation, secured the funds necessary for the support of the army and the navy. At the close of the War, the government, after meeting this expenditure, had a national war debt of something over four thousand millions of dollars. The gross indebtedness resulting from the War was of course, however, much larger because each State had incurred war expenditures and counties as well as States had issued bonds for the payment of bounties, etc. The criticism was made at the time by the opponents of the financial system which was shaped by the Committee of Ways and Means in co-operation with the Secretary, a criticism that has often been repeated since, that the War expenditure would have been much less if the amounts needed beyond what could be secured by present taxation had been supplied entirely by the proceeds of bonds. In addition, however, to the issues of bonds, the government issued currency to a large amount, which was made legal tender and which on the face of it was not made subject to redemption.

                                                                                                                'It surely was providential to meet you like that at the airport.' Mr Du Font's voice was grave, sincere. 'I've never forgotten our first meeting at Royale. I recall every detail of it - your coolness, your daring, your handling of the cards.' Bond looked down at the table-cloth. But Mr Du Pont had got tired of his peroration. He said hurriedly, 'Mr Bond, I will pay you ten thousand dollars to stay here as my guest until you have discovered how this man Goldfinger beats me at cards.'

                                                                                                                "A grief without a pang, void, dark and drear,


                                                                                                                Miss Threadgold's Astor House was, like most of these very English establishments, in the Sunningdale area-a large Victorian stockbrokery kind of place, whose upper floors had been divided up with plasterboard to make bedrooms for twenty-five pairs of girls. Being a "foreigner," I was teamed up with the other foreigner, a dusky Lebanese millionairess with huge tufts of mouse-colored hair in her armpits, and an equal passion for chocolate fudge and an Egyptian film star called Ben Said, whose gleaming photograph-gleaming teeth, mustache, eyes, and hair-was soon to be torn up and flushed down the lavatory by the three senior girls of Rose Dormitory, of which we were both members. Actually I was saved by the Lebanese. She was so dreadful, petulant, smelly, and obsessed with her money that most of the school took pity on me and went out of their way to be kind. But there were many others who didn't, and I was made to suffer agonies for my accent, my table manners, which were considered uncouth, my total lack of savoir-faire, and, in general, for being a Canadian. I was also, I see now, much too sensitive and quicktempered. I just wouldn't take the bullying and teasing, and when I had roughed up two or three of my tormentors, others got together with them and set upon me in bed one night and punched and pinched and soaked me with water until I burst into tears and promised 1 wouldn't "fight like an elk" any more. After that, I gradually settled down, made an armistice with the place, and morosely set about learning to be a "lady."
                                                                                                                Goldfinger spoke quietly into his microphone. 'Last stretcher out. Bomb squad ready. Prepare to take over.'
                                                                                                                鈥榃e had a very uncommon visitor, who came at about 4 A.M. on the 1st of June. I do not think that he ever came before. What say you to a Bagh-i-bilae, or Tiger-cat? He wanted to steal Miss Dixie鈥檚 chickens, but lost his own life,鈥攕ix men succeeding in the difficult task of killing the fierce beast. We have kept his skin, which measures three feet five inches from the tip of the nose to the end of his rather shabby tail; so you see that he was a remarkable cat. The colour pale grey, with a darker stripe down the back. There must have been another curious visitor, and one who also left his skin, but without giving any one the trouble of killing him. The day after the death of the Bagh-i-bilae, Minnie found in her bath-room the overcoat of a snake about four feet long. He has made us a present of it; for there is no use in advertising for the owner of the skin. He gives it us gratis!鈥橖br> The wide, all-round lens, designed for spotting aircraft as well as surface ships, gave him a curious picture-a mouse's eye view of a forest of legs below the fore-edge of the table, and various aspects of the heads belonging to the legs. The Director and his two colleagues were clear-serious dull Russian faces whose characteristics Bond filed away. There was the studious, professional face of the Director-thick spectacles, lantern jaw, big forehead and thin hair brushed back. On his left was a square wooden face with deep clefts on either side of the nose, fair hair en brosse and a nick out of the left ear. The third member of the permanent staff had a shifty Armenian face with clever bright almond eyes. He was talking now. His face wore a falsely humble look. Gold glinted in his mouth.
                                                                                                                鈥業 thought that my birthday would pass over very quietly and silently, as it fell on a Sunday.... But my Native friends would not let me go without my birthday tamasha, merely delaying it till the Monday. I could not regret it, for certainly it was one of the most gratifying evenings that I have ever enjoyed. We had our feast, given by the Singhas, on the top of their house, with the glorious dark-blue sky as our ceiling, and our lamp the beautiful moon.... I was presented with a Batala scarf or chaddah, for which my dear boys had subscribed. A wonderful chaddah it is, with borders of red and gold. I thought by moonlight that the colour was grey.... In the morning I saw the exceedingly gay green, of which I enclose a thread.... It is precious to me, as a token of affection.

                                                                                                                                                                      The conductor knocked. Bond let him in and went out into the corridor. Kerim was still there gazing out. The train had picked up speed and was hurtling through the night, its harsh melancholy whistle echoing back at them from the walls of a deep cutting against the sides of which the lighted carriage windows flickered and danced. Kerim didn't move, but his eyes in the mirror of the window were watchful.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  We neither of us said anything for a little while.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              And fall to drawing corks instead of swords,

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Bond hurled himself out of bed and through the bathroom, but the communicating door was locked. He dashed back and through his room and down the corridor past a shrinking, terrified maid.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          ‘Ah!’ commented Zina?da, and she gave me a sidelong look, ‘What a memory he has! Well? I’m quite ready now . . . ’ And stooping to me, she imprinted on my forehead a pure, tranquil kiss.