"Act according to your own judgment," said Forester, "and there is one
question asked." So Forester made one mark upon a paper which he had
upon the table.
"But, cousin Forester, it is not right to count that, for I had not
begun."
Forester made no reply, but began arranging his note-books, as if he
was about commencing his own studies. Marco looked at him a moment,
and then he rose and gently opened the window and began his work.
[Illustration: MARCO'S DESK.]
Marco was but little accustomed to solitary study, and, after
performing one of the examples which Forester had given him, he
thought he was tired, and he began to look out the window and to play
with his pencil. He would lay his pencil upon the upper side of
his slate, and let it roll down. As the pencil was not round, but
polygonal in its form, it made a curious clicking sound in rolling
down, which amused Marco, though it disturbed and troubled Forester.
Whatever may have been the nice peculiarities in the delicate
mechanism of Forester's ear, and of the nerves connected with it,
compared with that of Marco's, by which the same sound produced a
sensation of pleasure in one ear, while it gave only pain in the
other, it would require a very profound philosopher to explain. But
the effect was certain. Forester, however, did not speak, but let
Marco roll his pencil down the slate as long as he pleased.
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