Bond read the telegram twice. You tore it out of the pad on your desk. Parrots warning this property is protected doormat. Why give them carbon copies? He gave the answer to the guard and then put the telegram, signed by Dasilva, in the pocket of his superior if any of the guard could bribe to get a copy from the local post office, if he did not open the envelope with boiling steam, or read the lines of the telegram in Bond’s hand upside down. He took the key, had a good night and headed for the stairs, shaking his head in denial to the elevator operator.
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