Don't you understand?
Makaraig and some others have asked that an academy of Castilian be opened, which is a piece of genuine foolishness--" "All right, all right, after awhile.

They're already beginning," answered Placido, trying to get away.
"But your professor may not call the roll--" "Yes, yes; but he calls it sometimes.

Later on, later on! Besides, I don't want to put myself in opposition to Makaraig." "But it's not putting yourself in opposition, it's only--" Placido heard no more, for he was already far away, hurrying to his class.

He heard the different voices--_adsum, adsum_--the roll was being called! Hastening his steps he got to the door just as the letter Q was reached.
"_Tinamaan ng--!_" [28] he muttered, biting his lips.
He hesitated about entering, for the mark was already down against him and was not to be erased.

One did not go to the class to learn but in order not to get this absence mark, for the class was reduced to reciting the lesson from memory, reading the book, and at the most answering a few abstract, profound, captious, enigmatic questions.