I was glad when he went away. I was angry that he wished to soften me. I must be strong to-day.
The director also noticed me, and called out in harsh tones:
"Well, famous fiddler: now you can show us what kind of a gypsy[44] you are."
[44] The czigány (gypsy) is celebrated for his sneaking cowardice, and his fiddle playing, he being a naturally gifted musician, as any one who has heard czigány music in Budapest can testify.
That pleased me better.
I would be no gypsy!
The examination began: my school-fellows, the greater part of whom were unknown to me, as they were students of a higher class, were called in one by one into the tribunal chamber, and one by one they were dismissed; then the pedellus led them into another room, that they might not tell those without what they had been asked, and what they had answered.
I had time enough to scrutinize their faces as they came out.
Each one was unusually flushed, and brought with him the impression of what had passed within.
One looked obstinate, another dejected. Some smiled bitterly: others could not raise their eyes to look at their fellows. Each one was suffering from some nervous perturbation which made his face a glaring contrast to the gaping, frozen features without.