“Why, yes,” Powell answered. “Isn’t that enough?”
“I thought—that is, that I might have some duties. How am I to begin?”
“Why, just open the book to the first page and read that, then turn over to the second page and read that, and so on—till you get to the end.”
“What will my hours be?”
“Your hours?” said Powell, as if he did not understand. “Oh, just suit yourself.”
Marley was looking at the book again.
“Don’t you make any entry—any memorandum?” he asked, still unable to separate himself from the idea that something formal, something legal, should mark the beginning of such an important epoch.
“Oh, you keep track of the date,” said Powell, “and at the end of three years I’ll give you a certificate. You may find that you can do most of your reading at home, but come around.”
Marley looked about the office, trying to imagine himself in this new situation.
“I’d like, you know,” he said, “to do something, if I could, to repay you for your trouble.”