While they were busy with that, he could be learning the other side of life from the books.
As the car crossed the zone of scattered dwellings that separated Oakland from Berkeley, he kept a lookout for a familiar, two-story building along the front of which ran the proud sign, HIGGINBOTHAM'S CASH STORE.

Martin Eden got off at this corner.

He stared up for a moment at the sign.

It carried a message to him beyond its mere wording.

A personality of smallness and egotism and petty underhandedness seemed to emanate from the letters themselves.