Well, soon after he'd been naturalized - he was a harmless sort of chap and in a useful trade and he had no difficulty in getting his papers - he started buying up small pawn-brokers all over the country. He had a little money and probably one of those belts of gold I was telling you about. He was a jeweller and goldsmith by trade, like his father and grandfather who had refined gold for Faberge. He was only twenty when he arrived, but he must have been a bright lad because he smelled that the Russians would be swallowing his country pretty soon. He said, 'There's a man who came over to England in 1937. Now, about this smuggling.'Ĭolonel Smithers's eyes took on their hard, foxy look. Perhaps they'll find a way of mining gold. They're already mining oil under the sea. Perhaps the position isn't as bad as you think. He said, 'You certainly make a fascinating story of it. Bond, smothered by this cataract of gold history, found no difficulty in looking as grave as Colonel Smithers.
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