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 son or sense to it, that I can't understand and that nobody else does or can?"

"But think of the teachers, and the mathematicians, and the students—"

"Oh, they like to talk," said Bob, tossing his head.

"Bob Stevens,— "I began,—and then suddenly it came over me what was familiar about the conversation, and I sort of gasped.

"Well?" said Bob.

I laughed. "Think what you want to about algebra," I said. "It's none of my affair what you think, if you are satisfied. It isn't up to me to make you change your mind, if your own ideas suit you, and get you anywhere."

Bob looked surprised and disappointed.

"And it certainly doesn't make any difference to you, what I think, so long as I mind my own business and don't thrust my views upon you."

Bob scuffed his feet in the fallen leaves. "I hate to see you gulled," he said. "It makes me mad to see you waste your time on something that isn't good for anything."

"Don't you worry about me," I said. "You look after Bob Stevens, and I'll see what I can do