Felix Nawn roomed alone on Greene Street on the top floor of a three-family house over a mile away from the campus. He was the only college boy in the house. He was the only college boy on the street. Greene Street was on the other side of the railroad track from the college buildings, and the fraternity houses, and the various restaurants and lunch-rooms planted here and there for the boys.
The railroad track was like a wall. The college boys seldom crossed it. It was because Felix had as usual been wandering alone, away from the herd, that he chanced to pass through Greene Street and see the placard in the window announcing that there was a room to let. He had had no idea where to hunt for a room, only a dull, steady desire, like a dull, steady ache, to get away from the enthusiasm and boisterous greetings which he had been witnessing for three days at every corner around the campus, as old friend met old friend, or group fell into step with group, or reunited club members sprawled in luxurious comradeship over the steps and broad verandas of the fraternity houses.
The room on Greene Street looked away from the
