"All right, all right, after awhile. They're already beginning,"
answered Placido, trying to get away.

"But your professor may not call the roll--"

"Yes, yes; but he calls it sometimes. Later on, later on! Besides,
I don't want to put myself in opposition to Makaraig."

"But it's not putting yourself in opposition, it's only--"

Placido heard no more, for he was already far away, hurrying to his
class. He heard the different voices--_adsum, adsum_--the roll was
being called! Hastening his steps he got to the door just as the
letter Q was reached.

"_Tinamáan ñg--!_" [28] he muttered, biting his lips.

He hesitated about entering, for the mark was already down against
him and was not to be erased. One did not go to the class to
learn but in order not to get this absence mark, for the class was
reduced to reciting the lesson from memory, reading the book, and
at the most answering a few abstract, profound, captious, enigmatic
questions. True, the usual preachment was never lacking--the same
as ever, about humility, submission, and respect to the clerics,
and he, Placido, was humble, submissive, and respectful. So he was
about to turn away when he remembered that the examinations were
approaching and his professor had not yet asked him a question nor
appeared to notice him--this would be a good opportunity to attract
his attention and become known! To be known was to gain a year, for
if it cost nothing to suspend one who was not known, it required a