if.thunderball-第23部分

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　Faust。〃
　
　〃Oh；　but　I　can't。　I　mean　。　。　。〃
　
　But　Bond　had　already　paid　for　the　carton　and　for　a　packet　of　Chesterfields　for　himself。　He　took　the　change　and　followed　her　out　of　the　shop。　They　stood　together　under　the　striped　awning。　The　heat　was　terrific。　The　white　light　on　the　dusty　street；　the　glare　reflected　back　off　the　shop　fronts　opposite　and　off　the　dazzling　limestone　of　the　houses　made　them　both　screw　up　their　eyes。　Bond　said；　〃I'm　afraid　smoking　goes　with　drinking。　Are　you　going　to　give　them　both　up　or　one　by　one？〃
　
　She　looked　at　him　quizzically。　〃This　is　very　sudden；　Mr。…er…Bond。　Well；　all　right。　But　somewhere　out　of　the　town。　It's　too　hot　here。　Do　you　know　the　Wharf　out　beyond　the　Fort　Montague？〃　Bond　noticed　that　she　looked　quickly　up　and　down　the　street。　〃It's　not　bad。　e　on。　I'll　take　you　there。　Mind　the　metal。　It'll　raise　blisters　on　you。〃
　
　Even　the　white　leather　of　the　upholstery　burned　through　to　Bond's　thighs。　But　he　wouldn't　have　minded　if　his　suit　had　caught　fire。　This　was　his　first　sniff　at　the　town　and　already　he　had　got　hold　of　the　girl。　And　she　was　a　fine　girl　at　that。　Bond　caught　hold　of　the　leather…bound　safety　grip　on　the　dashboard　as　the　girl　did　a　sharp　turn　up　Frederick　Street　and　another　one　onto　Shirley。
　
　Bond　settled　himself　sideways　so　that　he　could　look　at　her。　She　wore　a　gondolier's　broadrimmed　straw　hat；　tilted　impudently　down　over　her　nose。　The　pale　blue　tails　of　its　ribbon　streamed　out　behind。　On　the　front　of　the　ribbon　was　printed　in　gold　〃　M/Y　DISCO　VOLANTE　。〃　Her　short…sleeved　silk　shirt　was　in　half…inch　vertical　stripes　of　pale　blue　and　white　and；　with　the　pleated　cream　skirt；　the　whole　get…up　reminded　Bond　vaguely　of　a　sunny　day　at　Henley　Regatta。　She　wore　no　rings　and　no　jewelery　except　for　a　rather　masculine　square　gold　wristwatch　with　a　black　face。　Her　flat…heeled　sandals　were　of　white　doeskin。　They　matched　her　broad　white　doeskin　belt　and　the　sensible　handbag　that　lay；　with　a　black　and　white　striped　silk　scarf；　on　the　seat　between　them。　Bond　knew　a　good　deal　about　her　from　the　immigration　form；　one　among　a　hundred；　which　he　had　been　studying　that　morning。　Her　name　was　Dominetta　Vitali。　She　had　been　born　in　Bolzano　in　the　Italian　Tyrol　and　therefore　probably　had　as　much　Austrian　as　Italian　blood　in　her。　She　was　twenty…nine　and　gave　her　profession　as　〃actress。〃　She　had　arrived　six　months　before　in　the　Disco　and　it　was　entirely　understood　that　she　was　mistress　to　the　owner　of　the　yacht；　an　Italian　called　Emilio　Largo。　〃Whore；〃　〃tart；〃　〃prostitute〃　were　not　words　Bond　used　about　women　unless　they　were　professional　streetwalkers　or　the　inmates　of　a　brothel；　and　when　Harling；　the　missioner　of　Police；　and　Pitman；　Chief　of　Immigration　and　Customs；　had　described　her　as　an　〃Italian　tart〃　Bond　had　reserved　judgment。　Now　he　knew　he　had　been　right。　This　was　an　independent；　a　girl　of　authority　and　character。　She　might　like　the　rich；　gay　life　but；　so　far　as　Bond　was　concerned；　that　was　the　right　kind　of　girl。　She　might　sleep　with　men；　obviously　did；　but　it　would　be　on　her　terms　and　not　on　theirs。
　
　Women　are　often　meticulous　and　safe　drivers；　but　they　are　very　seldom　first…class。　In　general　Bond　regarded　them　as　a　mild　hazard　and　he　always　gave　them　plenty　of　road　and　was　ready　for　the　unpredictable。　Four　women　in　a　car　he　regarded　as　the　highest　danger　potential；　and　two　women　as　nearly　as　lethal。　Women　together　cannot　keep　silent　in　a　car；　and　when　women　talk　they　have　to　look　into　each　other's　faces。　An　exchange　of　words　is　not　enough。　They　have　to　see　the　other　person's　expression；　perhaps　in　order　to　read　behind　the　other's　words　or　to　analyze　the　reaction　to　their　own。　So　two　women　in　the　front　seat　of　a　car　constantly　distract　each　other's　attention　from　the　road　ahead　and　four　women　are　more　than　doubly　dangerous；　for　the　driver　has　to　hear；　and　see；　not　only　what　her　panion　is　saying　but　also；　for　women　are　like　that；　what　the　two　behind　are　talking　about。
　
　But　this　girl　drove　like　a　man。　She　was　entirely　focused　on　the　road　ahead　and　on　what　was　going　on　in　her　driving　mirror；　an　accessory　rarely　used　by　women　except　for　making　up　their　faces。　And；　equally　rare　in　a　woman；　she　took　a　man's　pleasure　in　the　feel　of　her　machine；　in　the　timing　of　her　gear　changes；　and　the　use　of　her　brakes。
　
　She　didn't　talk　to　Bond　or　seem　to　be　aware　of　him；　and　this　allowed　him　to　continue　his　inspection　without　inhibition。　She　had　a　gay；　to…hell…with…you　face　that；　Bond　thought；　would　bee　animal　in　passion。　In　bed　she　would　fight　and　bite　and　then　suddenly　melt　into　hot　surrender。　He　could　almost　see　the　proud；　sensual　mouth　bare　away　from　the　even　white　teeth　in　a　snarl　of　desire　and　then；　afterward；　soften　into　a　half…pout　of　loving　slavery。　In　profile　the　eyes　were　soft　charcoal　slits　such　as　you　see　on　some　birds。but　in　the　shop　Bond　had　seen　them　full　face。　Then　they　had　been　fierce　and　direct　with　a　golden　flicker　in　the　dark　brown　that　held　much　the　same　message　as　the　mouth。　The　profile；　the　straight；　small　uptilted　nose；　the　determined　set　of　the　chin；　and　the　clean…cut　sweep　of　the　jaw　line　were　as　decisive　as　a　royal　mand；　and　the　way　the　head　was　set　on　the　neck　had　the　same　authority…the　poise　one　associates　with　imaginary　princesses。　Two　features　modified　the　clean…cut　purity　of　line…a　soft；　muddled　Brigitte　Bardot　haircut　that　escaped　from　under　the　straw　hat　in　an　endearing　disarray；　and　two　deeply　cut　but　soft　dimples　which　could　only　have　been　etched　by　a　sweet　if　rather　ironic　smile　that　Bond　had　not　yet　seen。　The　sunburn　was　not　overdone　and　her　skin　had　none　of　that　dried；　exhausted　sheen　that　can　turn　the　texture　of　even　the　youngest　skin　into　something　more　like　parchment。　Beneath　the　gold；　there　was　an　earthy　warmth　in　the　cheeks　that　suggested　a　good　healthy　peasant　strain　from　the　Italian　Alps；　and　her　breasts；　high　riding　and　deeply　V…ed；　were　from　the　same　stock。　The　general　impression；　Bond　decided；　was　of　a　willful；　high…tempered；　sensual　girl…a　beautiful　Arab　mare　who　would　only　allow　herself　to　be　ridden　by　a　horseman　with　steel　thighs　and　velvet　hands；　and　then　only　with　curb　and　saw　bit…and　then　only　when　he　had　broken　her　to　bridle　and　saddle。　Bond　thought　that　he　would　like　to　try　his　strength　against　hers。　But　that　must　be　for　some　other　time。　For　the　moment　another　man　was　in　the　saddle。　He　would　first　have　to　be　unhorsed。　And　anyway；　what　the　hell　was　he　doing　fooling　with　these　things？　There　was　a　job　to　be　done。　The　devil　of　a　job。
　
　The　MG　swept　out　of　Shirley　Street　on　to　Eastern　Road　and　followed　the　coast。　Across　the　wide　harbor　entrance　were　the　emerald　and　turquoise　shoals　of　Athol　Island。　A　deep…sea　fishing　boat　was　passing　over　them；　the。　two　tall　antennae　of　her　twelve…foot　rods　streaming　their　lines　astern。　A　fast　motorboat　came　hammering　by　dose　inshore；　the　water…skier　on　the　line　behind　her　executing　tight　slaloms　across　the　waves　of　her　wake。　It　was　a　sparkling；　beautiful　day　and　Bond's　heart　lifted　momentarily　from　the　trough　of　indecision　and　despondency　created　by　an　assignment　that；　particularly　since　his　arrival　at　dawn　that　day；　seemed　increasingly　time…wasting　and　futile。
　
　The　Bahamas；　the　string　of　a　thousand　islands　that　straggle　five　hundred　miles　southeast　from　just　east　of　the　coast　of　Florida　to　just　north　of　Cuba；　from　latitude　27o　down　to　latitude　21o；　were；　for　most　of　three　hundred　years；　the　haunt　of　every　famous　pirate　of　the　western　Atlantic；　and　today　tourism　makes　full　use　of　the　romantic　mythology。　A　road…sign　said　〃　Blackbeard's　Tower　1　mile　〃　and　another　〃　Gunpowder　Wharf。　Sea　Food。　Native　Drinks。　Shady　Garden。　First　Left　。〃
　
　A　sand　track　showed　on　their　left。　The　girl　took　it　and　pulled　up　in　front　of　a　ruined　stone　warehouse　against　which　leaned　a　pink　clapboard　house　with　white　window　frames　and　a　white　Adam…style　doorway　over　which　hung　a　brightly　painted　inn　sign　of　a　powder　keg　with　a　skull　and　crossbones　on　it。　The　girl　drove　the　MG　into　the　shade　of　a　clump　of　casuarinas　and　they　got　out　and　went　through　the　door　and　through　a　small　dining　room　with　red　and　white　checked　covers　and　out　onto　a　terrace　built　on　the　remains　of　a　stone　wharf。　The　terrace　was　shaded　by　sea…almond　trees　trimmed　into　umbrellas。　Trailed　by　a　shuffling　colored　waiter　with　soup　stains　down　his　white　coat；　they　chose　a　cool　table　on　the　edge　of　the　terrace　looking　over　the　water。　Bond　glanced　at　his　watch。　He　said　to　the　girl；　〃It's　exactly　midday。　Do　you　want　to　drink　solid　or　soft？〃
　
　The　girl　said；　〃Soft。　I'll　have　a　double　Bloody　Mary　with　plenty　of　Worcester　sauce。〃
　
　Bond　said；　〃What　do　you　call　hard？　I'll　have　a　vodka　and　tonic　with　a　dash　of　bitters。〃　The　waiter　said；　〃Yassuh〃　and　mooched　away。
　
　〃I　call　vodka…on…the…rocks　hard。　All　that　tomato　juice　makes　it　soft。〃　She　hooked　a　chair　toward　her　with　one　foot　and　stretched　out　her　legs　on　it　so　that　they　were　in　the　sun。　The　position　wasn't　fortable　enough。　She　kicked　off　her　sandals　and　sat　back；　satisfied。　She　said；　〃When　did　you　arrive？　I　haven't　seen　you　about。　When　it's　like　this；　at　the　end　of　the　season；　one　expects　to　know　most　of　the　faces。〃
　
　〃I　got　in　this　morning。　From　New　York。　I've　e　to　look　for　a　propert