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James arrives at the coastal town of Kimpton de Mar to enjoy his vacation. He tries by all means to please Grace, who has convinced him to travel there. However, he feels humiliated because he doesn't belong in that elegant place. Due to an unfortunate mistake he will end up with a stolen emerald in his pocket and he will be force to design a strategy to get out of such a mess.
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Seitenzahl: 30
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023
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Chapter 1
With a serious effort James Bond bent his attention once more on the little yellow book in his hand. On its outside the book bore the simple but pleasing legend, “Do you want your salary increased by £300 per annum?” Its price was one shilling. James had just finished reading two pages of crisp paragraphs instructing him to look his boss in the face, to cultivate a dynamic personality, and to radiate an atmosphere of efficiency. He had now arrived at subtler matter, “There is a time for frankness, there is a time for discretion,” the little yellow book informed him. “A strong man does not always blurt out all he knows.” James let the little book close and, raising his head, gazed out over a blue expanse of ocean. A horrible suspicion assailed him, that he was not a strong man. A strong man would have been in command of the present situation, not a victim to it. For the sixtieth time that morning James rehearsed his wrongs.
This was his holiday. His holiday! Ha, ha! Sardonic laughter. Who had persuaded him to come to that fashionable seaside resort, Kimpton-on-Sea? Grace. Who had urged him into an expenditure of more than he could afford? Grace. And he had fallen in with the plan eagerly. She had got him here, and what was the result? While he was staying in an obscure boarding house about a mile and a half from the sea front, Grace, who should have been in a similar boarding house (not the same one - the proprieties of James’s circle were very strict), had flagrantly deserted him and was staying at no less than the Esplanade Hotel upon the sea front.
It seemed that she had friends there. Friends! Again James laughed sardonically. His mind went back over the last three years of his leisurely courtship of Grace. Extremely pleased she had been when he lust singled her out for notice. That was before she had risen to heights of glory in the millinery salons at Messrs. Bardes in the High Street. In those early days it had been James who gave himself airs; now, alas! the boot was on the other leg. Grace was what is technically known as “earning good money.” It had made her uppish. Yes, that was it, thoroughly uppish. A confused fragment out of a poetry book came back to James’s mind, something about “thanking heaven fasting, for a good man’s love.” But there was nothing of that kind of thing observable about Grace. Well-fed on an Esplanade Hotel breakfast, she was ignoring the good man’s love utterly. She was indeed accepting the attentions of a poisonous idiot called Claud Sopworth, a man, James felt convinced, of no moral worth whatsoever.
