This was that, while there was a connecting door between Number 14 and Number 15, there was none between Number 14 and Number 13.
That fact, Amy declared, rendered their room fairly habitable when Penny was pouring out his soul.

"It's lucky in another way," he added, staring darkly at the buff-coloured wall that separated them from Number 13.

"If that door was on this side I'd have broken it open long ago and done murder!" Clint laughed and inquired: "Who rooms on the other side ?" "Schuman and Dreer." The contemptuous tone of his reply caused Clint to ask: "Anything wrong with them ?" "Oh, Schuman's all right, I guess, but Dreer's a pill." There was a wealth of contempt in the word "pill" as Amy pronounced it, and Clint asked innocently what a "pill" was.
"A pill," replied Amy, "is--is--well, there are all sorts of pills.

A fellow who toadies to the instructors is a pill.

A fellow who is too lazy to play football or baseball or tennis or anything else and pretends the doctor won't let him is a pill.