Thunderball (James Bond, #9)

by Ian Fleming

Miss Moneypenny screwed up her nose. ‘But, James, do you really drink and smoke as much as that? It can’t be good for you, you know.’ She looked up at him with motherly eyes. Bond controlled himself. He summoned a desperate effort at nonchalance, at the throw-away phrase. ‘It’s just that I’d rather die of drink than of thirst.