Steve was heartily glad when he had finished his supper and could leave the table.

Returning to his room under the circumstances was not appealing, but there seemed nowhere else to go.

There was the library, of course, but it was a dismal place on a Sunday evening, and he didn't want to read.

But, as it proved, he needn't have considered avoiding the room, for Tom didn't return after supper, and Steve finished his letter home in solitude.

At eight he went over to Al Brownell's room in Torrence, not because he was especially interested in the project to be discussed, but because he had agreed to attend the gathering and was glad, besides, to get away from Number 12 Billings.
Life in Number 12 didn't promise to be very delightful for awhile, he thought dolefully.
In Brownell's room Steve carefully took a position as far distant from Tom as was possible.