Grinnel: "Sergeant, you'd better tie your shirt around her head and take her into the O.N.I. building."
"Why, commander! And let that lousy little yeoman in on it?"
Grinnel, amused, a good Joe, a man's man: "That's up to you, men. Just keep it quiet."
"Why, commander, sometimes I like to make a little noise—"
"Ow!" a man yelled. There was a scuffle of feet and babbling voices. "Get her, you damn fool!" "She bit my hand—" "There she goes—" and a single emphatic shot.
Grinnel's voice said into the silence that followed: "That's that, men."
"Did you have to shoot, Commander?" an aggrieved Guardsman said.
"Don't blame me, fellow. Blame the guy that let her go."
"God-dammit, she bit me—"
Somebody said as though he didn't mean it: "We ought to take her someplace."