“I’ll do it,” River said again.
“For Christ’s sake, this is MI5, not a kiddies’ playground. Operational decisions don’t turn on who says bagsies. I decide who goes.” Lamb counted them off from the right. “Eenie meenie minie mo.” At mo, his finger rested on River. He moved it back to Shirley. “Meenie. You’re it.” 
River said, “I was mo!”
“And I don’t base operational decisions on children’s games. Remember?"

Whatever you thought of Lamb’s act, nobody ever accused his farts of lacking authenticity.

It was nice to be close to him, but it would have been nicer to be close somewhere spacious enough to be further apart.

Lamb said, “That was cute. If this was a film you’d let your hair down now and I’d say, but Miss Standish, you’re beautiful.”
“No, if this was a film I’d stake you through the heart, and you’d disappear in a cloud of dust.

“But at least we know now.”
“At least we know now.”
“Thanks to me.”
“Yeah yeah. Thanks to you.”
“I’ll take that as a pat on the head then.”
“Pat pat,” Louisa said.