Then the soul-erosion produced by high gambling - a compost of greed and fear and nervous tension - becomes unbearable and the senses awake and revolt from it. James Bond suddenly knew that he was tired. He always knew when his body or his mind had had enough and he always acted on the knowledge. This helped him to avoid staleness and the sensual bluntness that breeds mistakes. Le Chiffre was still playing chapteg still, virst, winning. There was an untidy pile of flecked hundred-mille plaques in front of him.
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Order our Casino Royale Study Guide. Plot Summary. Chapter 1, The Secret Agent. Directly Bond had started playing in fasino, his game had become the centre of interest at the table.
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As he seemed to be in luck, one or two pilot fish started to swim with the shark. Sitting directly opposite, one of these, whom Bond took to be an American, had shown more than the usual friendliness and pleasure at his share of the winning streak. He had smiled once or twice across the table, and there was something pointed in the way he duplicated Bond's movements, placing his chaper modest plaques of ten mille exactly opposite Bond's larger ones.
When Bond rose, he too pushed back his chair and called cheerfully across the table:. Bond had a feeling that this might be the CIA man. He knew he was right as they strolled off together towards the bar, after Bond had thrown a plaque of ten mille to the croupier and had given a mine to the huissier who drew back his chair.
What shall we have to celebrate? Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon-peel. Got it? Cjapter laughed.
Chapter 1, The Secret Agent Summary
But I do like that one to be large and ffirst strong and very cold and very well-made. I hate small portions of anything, particularly when furst taste bad. This drink's my own invention. I'm going to patent it when I can think of a good name. He watched carefully as the deep glass became frosted with the pale golden drink, slightly aerated by the bruising of the shaker.
He reached for it and took a long sip. The barman grinned.
But Leiter was still interested in Bond's drink. He lowered his voice. I hope it hasn't frightened away any of the big money. All the burnt trees are coming down tonight and if they work things here like they do at Fkrst Carlo, there won't be a trace of the mess left in the morning.
Leiter shook a Chesterfield out of his pack.
Our people are definitely interested. They think it's just as important as your friends do and they don't think there's anything crazy about it at all. In fact, Washington's pretty sick we're xasino running the show, but you know what the big brass is like. I expect your fellows are much the same in London.
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With Mathis and his boys here, there may not be much that isn't taken care of already. But, anyway, here I am. I'm glad Chaptet Chiffre seems as desperate as we thought he was. I'm afraid I haven't got anything very specific for you to do, but I'd be grateful if you'd stick around the Casino this evening. I've got an assistant, a Miss Lynd, and I'd like to hand her over to you when Casion start playing.
You won't be ashamed of her. She's a good looking girl.
Casino Royale - Chapter 1, The Secret Agent Summary & Analysis
She played with coolness. Monsieur le Vicomte de Villorin made one million two at roulette. He was playing the maximum on the first and last dozens. He was lucky. Then the Englishman, Mister Bond, increased his winnings to exactly three million over the two days. He was playing a progressive system on red at table five. Duclos, the chef de partie, has the details.
It seems that he is persevering and plays in maximums. He has luck. His nerves seem good. The boule, which was again badly frequented, still makes its expenses. As for robbing the caisse, in which Bond himself was not personally concerned, but only interested, he reflected that it would take ten good men, that they would certainly have to kill one or two employees, and that anyway you probably couldn't find ten non-squeal killers in France, or in any other country for the matter of that.
As he gave a thousand francs to the vestiaire and walked down the steps of the casino, Bond made up his mind that Le Chiffre would in no circumstances try to rob the caisse and he put the contingency out of his mind. Instead he explored his present physical sensations. He felt the dry, uncomfortable gravel under his evening shoes, the bad, harsh taste in his mouth and the slight sweat under his arms.
He could feel his eyes filling their sockets. The front of his face, his nose and antrum, were congested.
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Firsy breathed the sweet night air deeply and focused his senses and his wits. He wanted to know if anyone had searched his room since he had left it before dinner. He smiled at the concierge who gave him his key - No 45 on the first floor - and took the cable. It was the reply to a request Bond had sent that afternoon through Paris to his firzt in London asking for more funds.
Paris had spoken to London where Clements, the head of Bond's department, had spoken to M, who had smiled wryly and told 'The Broker' to fix it with the Treasury. Bond had once worked in Jamaica and his cover on the Royale assignment was that of a very rich client of Messrs Caffery, the principal import and export firm of Jamaica.
So he was being controlled through Jamaica, through a taciturn man who was head of the picture desk on the Daily Gleaner, the famous newspaper of the Caribbean. This man on the Gleaner, whose name was Fawcett, had been book-keeper for one of the leading turtle-fisheries on the Cayman Islands.Casino Royale First edition cover, conceived by Fleming AuthorIan Fleming CountryUnited Kingdom SeriesJames Bond GenreSpy fiction PublisherJonathan Cape Publication date 13 April Pages Followed byLive and Let Die Casino Royale is the first novel by the British author Ian Fleming. Published in , it is the first James Bond book, and it paved the way for a further eleven novels . CHAPTER 1 - THE SECRET AGENT The scent and smoke and sweat of a casino are nauseating at three in the morning. Then the soul-erosion produced by high gambling - a compost of greed and fear and nervous tension - becomes unbearable and the senses awake and revolt from it. James Bond suddenly knew that he was tired. After a cold shower, Bond walked over to the Casino. Since the night before he had lost the mood of the tables. He needed to re-establish that focus which is half mathematical and half intuitive and which, with a slow pulse and a sanguine temperament, Bond knew to be the essential equipment of any gambler who was set on winning.
One of the men from the Caymans who had volunteered on the outbreak of war, he had ended up as a Paymaster's clerk in a fo Naval Intelligence organization in Malta. At the end of the war, when, with a heavy heart, he was due to return to the Caymans, he was spotted by the section of the Secret Service concerned with the Caribbean.
He was strenuously trained in photography and in some other arts and, with the quiet connivance of an influential man in Jamaica, found his way to casono picture desk of the Gleaner. In the intervals between sifting photographs submitted by the great agencies - Keystone, Wide-World, Universal, INP, and Reuter-Photo - he would get peremptory instructions by telephone from a man he had never met to carry out certain simple operations requiring nothing but absolute discretion, speed, and accuracy.
For these occasional services he received twenty pounds a month paid into his account with the Royal Bank of Canada by a fictitious relative in England. Fawcett's present assignment was to relay immediately to Bond, full rates, the text of messages which he received at home by telephone from his anonymous contact.