And what kind of place did you find for yourself? Do you like it?”
“Well, it will do, I guess,” the other boy said dubiously. “Of course, it’s nothing like this—it’s not an apartment; it’s just a room I rented.”
“Ace,” said Starwick from the bathroom. “And where is that?”
“It’s on a street called Buckingham Road. Do you know where that is?”
“Oh,” said Starwick coldly, and he craned carefully with his neck, and was silent a moment as he did a little delicate razor-work around the Adam’s apple. “Ace,” he said at length as he put the razor down again. “I think I do…. And how did you happen to go out there?” he inquired coldly as he began to dry his face on a towel. “Did some one tell you about the place?”
“Well—yes. I knew about it before I came. It’s a room in a house that some people I know have rented.”
“Oh,” said Starwick coldly, formally again, as he thrust his arms into a fresh shirt. “Then you do know people here in Cambridge?”
“Well, no: they are really people from home.”
“Home?”
“Yes—from my own state, the place I came from, where I went to school before I came here.”
“Oh,” said Starwick, buttoning his shirt, “I see. And where was that? What state are you from?”
“Catawba.”
“Oh…. And you went to school down there?”
“Yes. To the State University.”
“I see…. And these people who have the house where you are living now—what are they doing here?”
“Well, the man—he’s a professor at the State University down there—he’s up here getting some sort of degree in education.”
“In what?”
“In education.”
“Oh. I see…. And what does his wife do; has he got a wife?”
“Yes; and three children…. Well,” the other youth said uncertainly, and then laughed suddenly, “I haven’t seen her do anything yet but sit on her tail and talk.”
“Ace?” said Starwick, knotting his tie very carefully. “And what does she talk about?”
“Of people back home, mostly—the professors at the University, and their wives and families.”
