Bond felt desperate at the thought of himself gulping on champagne at Roi Galant as the enemy was busy preparing a retaliation. He cursed himself, cursed his arrogance that reassured him that he won and the enemy was on the run. The Gilberts’ backyard bar and grill sipping grilling and chilling flag. Le Chiffre didn’t say a half word the whole time. As soon as the bag was closed, a third man, whom Bond immediately identified, climbed beside him; and Le Chiffre bravely backed his car back to the main road. Then he thrust the gas through the gate, quickly dashing 70 miles an hour down the shore.
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