if.goldfinger-第33部分

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to　the　road。　He　got　out　again。　The　crowd　had　thinned。　There　was　a　man　in　a　mechanic's　overalls。　He　volunteered　to　call　a　breakdown　van　and　went　off　to　do　so。　Bond　walked　over　to　the　Triumph。　The　girl　had　got　out　and　was　waiting　for　him。　Her　expression　had　changed。　Now　she　was　more　posed。　Bond　noticed　that　her　eyes；　which　were　dark　blue；　watched　his　face　carefully。
　Bond　said；　'It　really　won't　be　too　bad。　Probably　knocked　the　fan　out　of　alignment。　They'll　put　temporary　headlamps　in　the　sockets　and　straighten　up　the　chrome。　You'll　be　off　again　by　tomorrow　morning。　Now；'　Bond　reached　into　his　pocket　for　his　notecase；'this　is　maddening　for　you　and　I'll　certainly　take　all　the　blame。　Here's　a　hundred　thousand　francs　to　cover　the　damage　and　your　expenses　for　the　night　and　telephoning　your　friends　and　so　on。　Please　take　it　and　call　it　quits。　I'd　love　to　stay　here　and　see　you　get　on　the　road　all　right　tomorrow　morning。　But　I've　got　an　appointment　this　evening　and　I've　simply　got　to　make　it。'
　'No。'　The　one　word　was　cool；　definite。　The　girl　put　her　hands　behind　her　back　and　waited。
　'But。。。'　What　was　it　she　wanted；　the　police？　Have　him　charged　with　dangerous　driving？
　'I've　got　an　appointment　this　evening　too。　I've　got　to　make　it。　I've　got　to　get　to　Geneva。　Will　you　please　take　me　there？　It's　not　far。　Only　about　a　hundred　miles。　We　could　do　it　in　two　hours　in　that。'　She　gestured　at　the　DB　III。　'Will　you？　Please？'
　There　was　a　desperate　urgency　in　the　voice。　No　cajolery；　no　threats；　only　a　blazing　need。
　For　the　first　time　Bond　examined　her　as　more　than　a　pretty　girl　who　perhaps　…　they　were　the　only　explanations　Bond　had　found　to　fit　the　facts　…　wanted　to　be　picked　up　by　Goldfinger　or　had　a　blackmail　on　him。　But　she　didn't　look　capable　of　either　of　these　things。　There　was　too　much　character　in　the　face；　too　much　candour。　And　she　wasn't　wearing　the　uniform　of　a　seductress。　She　wore　a　white；　rather　masculine　cut；　heavy　silk　shirt。　It　was　open　at　the　neck；　but　it　would　button　up　to　a　narrow　military　collar。　The　shirt　had　long　wide　sleeves　gathered　at　the　wrists。　The　girl's　nails　were　unpainted　and　her　only　piece　of　jewellery　was　a　gold　ring　on　her　engagement　finger　（true　or　false？）。　She　wore　a　very　wide　black　stitched　leather　belt　with　double　brass　buckles。　It　rose　at　the　back　to　give　some　of　the　support　of　a　racing　driver's　corset　belt。　Her　short　skirt　was　charcoal…grey　and　pleated。　Her　shoes　were　expensive…looking　black　sandals　which　would　be　fortable　and　cool　for　driving。　The　only　touch　of　colour　was　the　pink　handkerchief　which　she　had　taken　off　her　head　and　now　held　by　her　side　with　the　white　goggles。　It　all　looked　very　attractive。　But　the　get…up　reminded　Bond　more　of　an　equipment　than　a　young　girl's　dress。　There　was　something　faintly　mannish　and　open…air　about　the　whole　of　her　behaviour　and　appearance。　She　might；　thought　Bond；　be　a　member　of　the　English　women's　ski　team；　or　spend　a　lot　of　her　time　in　England　hunting　or　show…jumping。
　Although　she　was　a　very　beautiful　girl　she　was　the　kind　who　leaves　her　beauty　alone。　She　had　made　no　attempt　to　pat　her　hair　into　place。　As　a　result；　it　looked　as　a　girl's　hair　should　look　…　untidy；　with　bits　that　strayed　and　a　rather　crooked　parting。　It　provided　the　contrast　of　an　uneven；　jagged　dark　frame　for　the　pale　symmetry　of　the　face；　the　main　features　of　which　were　blue　eyes　under　dark　brows；　a　desirable　mouth；　and　an　air　of　determination　and　independence　that　came　from　the　high　cheek…bones　and　the　fine　line　of　the　jaw。　There　was　the　same　air　of　self…reliance　in　her　figure。　She　held　her　body　proudly　…　her　fine　breasts　out…thrown　and　unashamed　under　the　taut　silk。　Her　stance；　with　feet　slightly　parted　and　hands　behind　her　back；　was　a　mixture　of　provocation　and　challenge。
　The　whole　picture　seemed　to　say；　'Now　then；　you　handsome　bastard；　don't　think　you　can　〃little　woman〃　me。　You've　got　me　into　this　mess　and；　by　God；　you're　going　to　get　me　out！　You　may　be　attractive；　but　I've　got　my　life　to　run；　and　I　know　where　I'm　going。'
　Bond　weighed　her　request。　How　much　of　a　nuisance　would　she　be？　How　soon　could　he　get　rid　of　her　and　get　on　with　his　business？　Was　there　any　security　risk？　Against　the　disadvantages；　there　was　his　curiosity　about　her　and　what　she　was　up　to；　the　memory　of　the　fable　he　had　spun　round　her　and　which　had　now　taken　its　first　step　towards　realization；　and；　finally；　the　damsel…in…distress　business　…　any　woman's　appeal　for　help。
　Bond　said　curtly；　'I'll　be　glad　to　take　you　to　Geneva。　Now　then；'　he　opened　up　the　back　of　the　Aston　Martin；　'let's　get　your　things　in。　While　I　fix　up　about　the　garage　here's　some　money。　Please　buy　us　lunch　…　anything　you　like　for　yourself。　For　me；　six　inches　of　Lyon　sausage；　a　loaf　of　bread；　butter；　and　half　a　litre　of　Macon　with　the　cork　pulled。'
　Their　eyes　met　and　exchanged　a　flurry　of　masculine/feminine　master/slave　signals。　The　girl　took　the　money。　'Thank　you。　I'll　get　the　same　things　for　myself。'　She　went　to　the　boot　of　the　Triumph　and　unlocked　it。　'No；　don't　bother。　I　can　manage　these。'　She　hauled　out　a　bag　of　golf　clubs　with　a　cover　zipped　shut　and　a　small；　expensive　looking　suitcase。　She　brought　them　over　to　the　Aston　Martin　and；　rejecting　Bond's　offer　of　help；　fitted　them　in　alongside　Bond's　suitcase。　She　watched　him　lock　the　back　of　the　car　and　went　back　to　the　Triumph。　She　took　out　a　wide；　black…stitched　leather　shoulder　bag。
　Bond　said；　'What　name　and　address　shall　I　give？'
　'What？'
　Bond　repeated　his　question；　wondering　if　she　would　lie　about　the　name　or　the　address；　or　both。
　She　said；　'I　shall　be　moving　about。　Better　say　the　Bergues　at　Geneva。　The　name's　Soames。　Miss　Tilly　Soames。'　There　was　no　hesitation。　She　went　into　the　butcher's　shop。
　A　quarter　of　an　hour　later　they　were　on　their　way。
　The　girl　sat　upright　and　kept　her　eyes　on　the　road。　The　drone　on　the　Homer　was　faint。　The　Rolls　must　have　gained　fifty　miles。　Bond　hurried。　They　flashed　through　Bourg　and　over　the　river　at　Pont　d'Ain。　Now　they　were　in　the　foothills　of　the　Jura　and　there　were　the　S…bends　of　N84。　Bond　went　at　them　as　if　he　was　peting　in　the　Alpine　Trials。　After　the　girl　had　swayed　against　him　twice　she　kept　her　hand　on　the　handle　on　the　dash　and　rode　with　the　car　as　if　she　were　his　spare　driver。　Once；　after　a　particularly　sharp　dry　skid　that　almost　took　them　over　the　side；　Bond　glanced　at　her　profile。　Her　lips　were　parted　and　her　nostrils　slightly　flared。　The　eyes　were　alight。　She　was　enjoying　herself。
　They　came　to　the　top　of　the　pass　and　there　was　the　run　down　towards　the　Swiss　frontier。　Now　the　Homer　was　sending　out　a　steady　howl。　Bond　thought；　I　must　take　it　easy　or　we　shall　be　running　into　them　at　the　Customs。　He　put　his　hand　under　the　dash　and　tuned　the　noise　down。　He　pulled　in　to　the　side　of　the　road。　They　sat　in　the　car　and　ate　a　polite　but　almost　silent　picnic；　neither　making　any　attempt　at　conversation；　both；　it　seemed；　with　other　things　on　their　minds。　After　ten　minutes；　Bond　got　going　again。　He　sat　relaxed；　motoring　easily　down　the　curving　road　through　the　young　whispering　pines。
　The　girl　said；　'What's　that　noise？'
　'Magneto　whine。　Gets　worse　when　I　hurry。　Started　at　Orleans。　Have　to　get　it　fixed　tonight。'
　She　seemed　satisfied　with　this　mumbo…jumbo。　She　said　diffidently；　'Where　are　you　heading　for？　I　hope　I　haven't　taken　you　very　far　out　of　your　way。'
　Bond　said　in　a　friendly　voice；　'Not　at　all。　As　a　matter　of　fact；　I'm　going　to　Geneva　too。　But　I　may　not　stop　there　tonight。　May　have　to　get　on。　Depends　on　my　meeting。　How　long　will　you　be　there？'
　'I　don't　know。　I'm　playing　golf。　There's　the　Swiss　Women's　Open　Championship　at　Divonne。　I'm　not　really　that　class；　but　I　thought　it　would　be　good　for　me　to　try。　Then　I　was　going　to　play　on　some　of　the　other　courses。'
　Fair　enough。　No　reason　why　it　shouldn't　be　true。　But　Bond　was　certain　it　wasn't　the　whole　truth。　He　said；　'Do　you　play　a　lot　of　golf？　What's　your　home　course？'
　'Quite　a　lot。　Temple。'
　It　had　been　an　obvious　question。　Was　the　answer　true；　or　just　the　first　golf　course　she　had　thought　of？　'Do　you　live　near　there？'
　'I've　got　an　aunt　who　lives　at　Henley。　What　are　you　doing　in　Switzerland。　Holiday？'
　'Business。　Import　and　Export。'
　'Oh。'
　Bond　smiled　to　himself