Page 114 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner
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               large room from which he had emerged. It was like time travel, walking from

               the seventeenth century of the hall into a room of the present – tall, light and
               airy,  decorated  in  light  blues  and  creams,  furnished  with  a  stylish,  almost
               Scandinavian touch.
                  ‘Peter, I’m so glad to see you and Jenny, but your arrival has
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               a  slightly  unpleasant  domestic  problem.  It  would  appear  we  have  been
               harbouring some kind of spy in our midst. Ding, would you take her away and
               we’ll deal with the matter in due course? I’m sure our guests will understand.’
               He turned towards Bond and Chi-Chi, his eyes dancing and his face composed,

               but  as  imposing  a  figure  as  ever.  This  one,  Bond  thought,  would  be  very
               difficult to deceive. Then he looked across the room and froze.
                  At the far end, between two sets of heavy cream velvet drapes and below a
               large watercolour showing a lake and mountains in a gauzy mist, stood a large
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               wood  and  metal  chair  on  which  a  figure  was  slumped,  the  arms  and  feet
               shackled to the solid arms and legs of the chair.
                  ‘Take the wretched girl now, Ding.’
                  With a moan, the girl in the chair raised her head. Her face was covered

               with bruises. There was blood around her mouth and one eye had been closed.
               It was Wanda Man Song Hing, whom Bond had last seen in M’s cabin on the
               carrier.



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