"Not yet," said he. He got up and locked the door and put the key in his pocket. "You forget the lesson."
"You let me out, darn you!" I yelled. "I'm not going to study. You can keep me here all night and I won't study. You see if I do!"
"Don't be silly," he said, just as though he were talking to a kid. "You and I are going over those lessons if it takes to-night and to-morrow and the rest of the week. When you're ready to begin let me know; I shan't ask you again." And then he went back to that book.
After a while it began to get darkish. I went back to the bed and tried to sleep, but I couldn't. I could have killed Twigg; but there wasn't any way to do it. He kept on reading and smoking. About six o'clock he said:
"This is quite a yarn, isn't it? Somehow I never seemed to find time for
Marryat when I was a boy. You've read this, of course?"
"Yes," I muttered.
"Like it?"
"Yes."
"What's your favorite book?"
"I dunno; Froissart, I guess."