With which he deliberately tore the page he had been copying from to scraps, which he threw in my face, and strolled out down to the playground.
I was preparing submissively to do the exercise over again as well as I could in the short time that was left, when I was startled by a low cry of indignation, and, looking round, saw Marjory standing in the doorway, and knew by her face that she had seen all.
'Has Ormsby done that to you before?' she inquired.
'Once or twice he has,' said I.
'And you let him!' she cried. 'Oh, Cameron!'
'What can I do?' I said.
'I know what I would do,' she replied. 'I would slap his face, or pinch him. I wouldn't put up with it!'
'Boys don't slap one another, or pinch,' I said, not displeased to find a weak place in her knowledge of us.
'Well, they do something!' she said; 'a real boy would. But I don't think you are a real boy, Cameron. I'll show you what to do. Where's the exercise that—that pig copied? Ah! I see it. And now—look!' (Here she tore his page as he had torn mine.)
'Now for an envelope!' and from the Doctor's own desk she took an envelope, in which she placed the fragments, and wrote on the outside in her round, childish hand: 'With Marjory's compliments, for being a bully.'