A half-smile drawn tight, ready to snap as Don blew a sigh from the side of his mouth. A soundless laugh clenched his chest. His gaze sidestepped Bond's: courtesy, of a kind.
He cocked his head, took a few short, interrogative puffs on his cigar. It'd driven like a sleeping limb. Then the pitch, that untouchable feeling and the way it'd turned inside out when Joan stepped into the office.