It was extraordinary to hear the third voice. The hour’s ritual had only demanded a duologue against the horrible noise of the t*****e. Bond’s dimmed senses hardly took it in. Then suddenly he was half-way back to consciousness. He found he could see and hear again. He could hear the dead silence after the one quiet word from the doorway. He could see Le Chiffre’s head slowly come up and the expression of blank astonishment, of innocent amazement, slowly give way to fear.
‘Shtop,’ had said the voice, quietly.
Bond heard slow steps approaching behind his chair.
‘Dhrop it,’ said the voice.
Bond saw Le Chiffre’s hand open obediently and the knife fall with a clatter to the floor.
He tried desperately to read into Le Chiffre’s face what was happening behind him, but all he saw was blind i
