"Good Lord, how?"
"I was yelling something to my sergeant, and a bullet went right in and out here." He put his finger on his cheek.
"Great heavens! I thought it was a dimple. I rather liked it."
"Then I'm glad I got it."
She writhed with pain for his sake.
"Did it hurt—hideously?"
"Not half as much as the two pellets I got in my side. They probed for them till I made them stop, partly because I wasn't enjoying it and partly because probing kills more than cartridges."
"How did they get them out, then?"
"They didn't."
She stared at him wild-eyed.