vague and rambling impracticality encouraged her to advise him. He was a stranger to New York. He did not know whether it would be possible to get two large rooms, with bath, in a private family, no matter what one paid for them. He did not care to go to a boarding house. New York, he knew, was not like Chicago; people were less friendly; they were more suspicious of strangers; they would not admit you to their family circle so readily.
He would like to get rooms in this quarter, because it was so convenient to the Institute. He liked these old-fashioned houses; they were so home-like. The high ceilings made them cool. Lots of air. And the big windows. And the walls, being thick, made the rooms quiet. Very different from a hotel. Even in the Haarlem, where he was paying seventy-five dollars a week, he had none of the real comforts of quiet and privacy. His tastes were simple. He did not care for show.
And so forth.
