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in； 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 property。 It struck me that now would be better than in the season。 When all the millionaires are here the prices are hopeless。 They may e down a bit now they're gone。 How long have you been here？
〃About six months。 I came out in a yacht； the Disco Volante 。 You may have seen her。 She's anchored up the coast。 You probably flew right over her ing in to land at Windsor Field。〃
〃A long low streamlined affair？ Is she yours？ She's got beautiful lines。〃
〃She belongs to a relative of mine。〃 The eyes watched Bond's face。
〃Do you stay on board？〃
〃Oh； no。 We've got a beach property。 Or rather we've taken it。 It's a place called Palmyra。 Just opposite where the yacht is。 It belongs to an Englishman。 I believe he wants to sell it。 It's very beautiful。 And it's a long way away from the tourists。 It's at a place called Lyford Key。〃
〃That sounds the sort of place I'm looking for。〃
〃Well； we'll be gone in about a week。〃
〃Oh。〃 Bond looked into her eyes。 〃I'm sorry。〃
〃If you've got to flirt； don't be obvious。〃 Suddenly the girl laughed。 She looked contrite。 The dimples remained。 〃I mean； I didn't really mean that…not the way it sounded。 But I've spent six months listening to that kind of thing from these silly old rich goats and the only way to shut them up is to be rude。 I'm not being conceited。 There's no one under sixty in this place。 Young people can't afford it。 So any woman who hasn't got a harelip or a mustache…well not even a mustache would put them off。 They'd probably like it。 Well； I mean absolutely any girl makes these old goats get their bifocals all steamed up。〃 She laughed again。 She was getting friendly。 〃I expect you'll have just the same effect on the old women with pince…nez and blue rinses。〃
〃Do they eat boiled vegetables for lunch？〃
〃Yes； and they drink carrot juice and prune juice。〃
〃We won't get on； then。 I won't sink lower than conch chowder。〃
She looked at him curiously。 〃You seem to know a lot about Nassau。〃
〃You mean about conch being an aphrodisiac？ That's not only a Nassau idea。 It's all over the world where there are conchs。〃
〃Is it true？〃
〃Island people have it on their wedding night。 I haven't found it to have any effect on me。〃
〃Why？〃 She looked mischievous。 〃Are you married？〃
〃No。〃 Bond smiled across into her eyes。 〃Are you？〃
〃No。〃
Then we might both try some conch soup some time and see what happens。〃
〃That's only a little better than the millionaires。 You'll have to try harder。〃
The drinks came。 The girl stirred hers with a finger； to mix in the brown sediment of Worcester sauce； and drank half of it。 She reached for the carton of Dukes； broke it open； and slit a packet with her thumbnail。 She took out a cigarette； sniffed it cautiously； and lit it with Bond's lighter。 She inhaled deeply and blew out a long plume of smoke。 She said doubtfully； 〃Not bad。 At least the smoke looks like smoke。 Why did you say you were such an expert on giving up smoking？〃