The vhole class burst into a loud fit of laughter. Mr Durieux glared at me, rapped with the book he held, and ordered silence.
The scholars, who had never seen him in such a rage, seemed cowed down.
"Leave the class," said he to me with an angry scowl.
"But why?" said I, trembling.
"Get out, at once, do you hear."
"But sir," said I, stammering, "I didn't mean, that is, it's not I, it's…"
"Will you go out at once, you scoundrel, or I'll call Guillaume."
I knew that Guillaume—in fact all three Guillaumes—boreme a grudge. I rose at once, casting an imploring glance at my neighbour, hosping that he would get up and explain. He sat quietly with head bowed down.
I was locked up in a closed by myself, never saw any of the other boys again, then, after a few days, I was expelled from school.
Why, I did not know.
I was told something about black sheep, and contamination, wheat and tares, but I did
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