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Fleming-Golden-Gun-First-Edition
Fleming, Ian

The Man With The Golden Gun

James Bond drank down the rest of his beer and got slowly to his feet. He walked towards Scaramanga and was about to pass him when the man reached out a languid left arm and caught him at the biceps. He held the snout of his gun to his nose, sniffing delicately. The expression in the dead brown eyes was far-away. He said, ‘Mister, there’s something quite extra about the smell of death. Care to try it?’ He held out the glittering gun as if he was offering James Bond a rose… FIRST EDITION, second state (as usual), without the rare gilt golden gun on the front board. Octavo, original black cloth, original dust jacket. A FINE COPY.
Fleming-Golden-Gun-First-Edition
Fleming, Ian

The Man With The Golden Gun

James Bond drank down the rest of his beer and got slowly to his feet. He walked towards Scaramanga and was about to pass him when the man reached out a languid left arm and caught him at the biceps. He held the snout of his gun to his nose, sniffing delicately. The expression in the dead brown eyes was far-away. He said, ‘Mister, there’s something quite extra about the smell of death. Care to try it?’ He held out the glittering gun as if he was offering James Bond a rose… FIRST EDITION, second state (as usual), without the rare gilt golden gun on the front board. Octavo, original black cloth, original dust jacket. A FINE COPY.