Mr. Percey was largely unmoved by Ms. Morris' egoism.  In fact, his only reflection occurred when he was prodding the shaft of his cigarette with the flick of a finger to shake off the ashes.  This is the sort of stuff that the English are not accustomed to dealing with:  this was an American sentiment, and at that, 003 began to loathe Ms. Morris.  He had asked her to come with him, she said no; he had<em>insisted</em>on it, and she gave him a megalomaniacal retort?  He had thought as much, anyways.  M had warned him that Ms. Morris was terribly bold.<br/><br/>But again, he had thought as much.  It was why he had drugged her martini with a mix of chloral hydrate and a bit of gamma-hydroxybutyrate.  Percey inspected his watch.<br/><br/>"Madame, I find your behavior to be monstrous," he said.  A gray plume of smoke escaped his lips and he took another drought from his own drink.   "I am quite sorry that you're so adverse to the matter.  But I am afraid that you will not have much of a choice soon.  You see, your drink is spiked.  A trick I learned in Oxford, I am afraid."<br/><br/>In no way did Percey appear happy with his dastardly trick.<br/><br/>"I beg your pardon," he said.   "But your reckless and sadistic pursuit for justice is an assault on your breeding, upbringing and education."