James Bond At The Caff

I'm afraid I've stirred it, Mr. Bond,
he said of the greasy tea,
white-catless but no less malevolent,
the rainy fluid something devious.

James quivered the cup to his lips,
long since losing the oh's
(fell off with his teeth)

He couldn't think of a quip,
swallowed the bland sip before the full English.
He had time to kill.