Chapter 17I watched Professor Roediger's back as he wrote complex formulas on the board. His fingers were smeared with chalk and the dust clung to his tweed jacket. After some ten minutes, he put down the chalk, slapped his hands together sending up a small cloud, and surveyed the class. A neatly trimmed Van Dyke offset his round face. Dark beetle brows furrowed as he surveyed the room intensely, the green eyes strangely vacant and somewhat chilling. I felt warm in the airless room but the Professor appeared at ease, enjoying our discomfort. I thought of Maria and what she might be doing.
“Young gentlemen,” Herr Professor Roediger began in a low voice. “This is the most difficult class you will likely have. I do not suffer fools and idiots. If you are an i***t then I have no time for you.
