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grass in the mouth of a tiger. The murmur of voices grew more distinct.
But what told you first that something was wrong, Miss Fearing?
It was the noise, the noise of the machine. I had just finished a treatment.
A few minutes later I heard it.
I'd never heard it so loud. I thought perhaps the door had been left open. I
wasn't really worried but I
came along to make sure. And there it was. The indicator up to 200! I tore
down the lever and got the straps off and ran to the surgery and found the
coramine and injected it into the vein---one c.c, The pulse was terribly weak.
Then I telephoned you.
You seem to have done everything possible, Miss Fearing. And I'm sure you
bear no responsibility for this terrible thing. Mr. Wain's voice was
doubtful. It really is most unfortunate. I suppose the patient must have
jerked the lever, somehow. Perhaps he was experimenting. He might easily have
killed himself.
We must tell the company about this and have some safety arrangement
installed.
A hand gingerly clasped Bond's wrist, feeling for his pulse. Bond thought it
was time to re-enter the world. He must quickly get himself a doctor, a real
one, not one of these grated-carrot merchants. A
sudden wave of anger poured through him. This was all M's fault. M was mad. He
would have it out with him when he got back to Headquarters. If necessary he
would go higher---to the Chiefs of Staff, the
Cabinet, the Prime Minister. M was a dangerous lunatic---a danger to the
country. It was up to Bond to saveEngland . The weak, hysterical thoughts
whirled through his brain, mixed themselves up with the hairy hand of Count
Lippe, the mouth of Patricia Fearing, the taste of hot vegetable soup, and, as
consciousness slipped away from him again the diminishing voice of Mr. Wain:
No structural damage.
Only considerable surface abrasion of the nerve ends. And of course shock. You
will take personal charge of the case, Miss Fearing. Rest, warmth, and
effleurage. Is that under . . . ?
***
Rest, warmth, and effleurage. When Bond came round again, he was lying face
downward on his bed and his whole body was bathed in exquisite sensation.
Beneath him was the soft warmth of an electric blanket, his back glowed with
the heat from two large sun lamps, and two hands, clad in what felt to be some
particularly velvety fur, were rhythmically passing, one after the other, up
and down the whole length of his body from his neck to the backs of his knees.
It was a most gentle and almost piercingly luxurious experience, and Bond lay
and bathed himself in it.
Presently he said sleepily, Is that what they call effleurage?
The girl's voice said softly, I thought you'd come round. The whole tone of
your skin suddenly changed.
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How are you feeling?
Wonderful. I'd be still better for a double whisky on the rocks.
The girl laughed. Mr. Wain did say dandelion tea would be best for you. But I
thought a little stimulant might be good, I mean just this once. So I brought
the brandy with me. And there's plenty of ice as I'm going to give you an
ice-pack presently. Would you really like some? Wait, I'll put your dressing
gown over you and then you can see if you can turn over. I'll look the other
way.
Bond heard the lamps being pulled away. Gingerly, he turned on his side. The
dull ache returned, but it was already wearing off. He cautiously slipped his
legs over the side of the bed and sat up.
Patricia Fearing stood in front of him, clean, white, comforting, desirable.
In one hand was a pair of heavy mink gloves, but with the fur covering the
palm instead of the back. In the other was a glass. She held out the glass. As
Bond drank and heard the reassuring, real-life tinkle of the ice, he thought:
This is a most splendid girl. I will settle down with her. She will give me
effleurage all day long and from time to time a good tough drink like this. It
will be a life of great beauty. He smiled at her and held out the empty glass
and said, More.
She laughed, mostly with relief that he was completely alive again. She took
the glass and said, Well, just one more, then. But don't forget it's on an
empty stomach. It may make you dreadfully tight. She paused with the brandy
bottle in her hand. Suddenly her gaze was cool, clinical. And now you must
try and tell me what happened. Did you accidentally touch the lever or
something? You gave us all a dreadful fright. Nothing like that has ever
happened before. The traction table's really perfectly safe, you know.
Bond looked candidly into her eyes. He said reassuringly, Of course. I was
just trying to get more comfortable. I heaved about and I do remember that my
hand hit something rather hard. I suppose it must have been the lever. Then I [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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