If the Colonel's orders are not obeyed, report to me." "Yas'm," grinned Uncle Billy, with an opera bouffe salute.

"Ev'ry molestashun I'se gwine report." Morrison laughed outright.

"I'm sorry you still have doubts of my honorable intentions.

May--may my soldiers go in now?
Thank you." He walked away a few steps, then turned and looked at her where she sat on the bench demurely sewing.

It occurred to him that she was _too_ demure.