From the Book Jacket:
"Samuel Tillerman." The name echoed from the loudspeakers set up all over the auditorium. Bullet turned around. "May I ask what you are doing?"
The principal was trying to set him up. Bullet met his eyes but didn't answer. He figured what he was doing was self-evident.
"You're leaving?" the man finally asked.
Bullet nodded. You could see the guy trying to figure out how to handle this.
"Why are you leaving?"
The guy was scared the other students would get up and follow Bullet out. Bullet didn't care about them. He just wasn't about to stay there any longer and be lied at. "You said this was a hearing," he called back. "It isn't."
"Sit down, Samuel," he ordered.
Bullet just stood there, for a while, then turned around again. He didn't hurry up the aisle, didn't go slow; he moved at his usual pace.
"Samuel? I think your days among us are numbered," the voice threatened him.
Bullet turned at the door to answer. "Yes, I expect they are."
