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Show 140 That afternoon the officers were summoned. The Major strode from desk to window, his great frame darkening a scene streaming with rain. Behind him the trees whipped about. "We've had it," he told the officers. "The Colonel's got the rag on." Carlton was addled enough to release a giggle, at which the Major expanded, his anger hanging like a genii. Carlton sat back and diminished, the only sign a pair of sallow eyes. Sid waited until the Major's passion had subsided; then: "What'll we do, sir?" "What he said." "Everything?" The Major cracked his swaggerstick on the table, adding another striation to previous interchanges of opinion. "Look, goddam it, why should I get my record balled up because of you? I don't like what he's doing either; I don't think it's his business. But he's making it his business, and if I don't knuckle under he'll get me. You heard him, Wilson: he'll carry it up the line." Pausing a moment he glared through the open door, where Jennings had obtruded himself into Sergeant Koontz's chair. He had come back for a change of clothes, and seeing everybody else in camera swung about in happy smugness. It was so dark; Oji was so dismal; he was leaving for TDY. He bobbed his little legs in delight. |