Chapter 3. AM with M and Q.

Ah, James, there you are. There was relief as well as a glow of welcome in the eyes of M's private secretary.

Bond responded with pleasure to the bowl of winter roses on the desk in the faint upper-class fragrance of some scent he could not place.

It was good to be home.

My flight was diverted, Moneypenny. What's going on?

There was no immediate response as Miss Moneypenny's head was bent forward announcing his arrival.

She flicked up the switch.

I don't know. He's got the Minister of Defence coming in at any minute.

You're to go straight in.

She called after him as he moved towards the door and the telephone on her desk started ringing.

Does the Chief of Staff know you're back?

Bond turned to nod towards the telephone on her desk started ringing. Does the chief of staff know you're back? Bond turned to nod towards the telephone. That'll be him telling you. He went through the door

and closed it softly behind him. The layout of the room had not changed, the dark green carpet

stretching like a putting green to the heavy polished wood desk with M behind it. Only the big

twin-bladed tropical fan, now stationary in the ceiling above the

desk, added an incongruous note. Bond wondered how many times Em had needed it during the previous

summer. M waved an impatient hand at the chair opposite his desk. You've taken a damnably long time getting here.

Bond sat down and gave a quick description of recent events. M's jawline hardened.

Somebody obviously doesn't like you. There was that business at Chamonie before your last mission,

wasn't there? Yes, sir, I don't think it was the Russians this time. After the Stromberg affair,

I feel they've given me a few months for spite. You could hardly expect an order of Lenin,

said M. dryly.

...