Now and again, though afflicted with secret shame, he dropped in at his sister's at meal-time and ate as much as he dared--more than he dared at the Morse table.
Day by day he worked on, and day by day the postman delivered to him rejected manuscripts.

He had no money for stamps, so the manuscripts accumulated in a heap under the table.

Came a day when for forty hours he had not tasted food.

He could not hope for a meal at Ruth's, for she was away to San Rafael on a two weeks' visit; and for very shame's sake he could not go to his sister's.

To cap misfortune, the postman, in his afternoon round, brought him five returned manuscripts.