It was his old spirit of humor and badinage that had made him a favorite in his own class, but which he had hitherto been unable to use in her presence through lack of words and training.

He was just beginning to orientate himself and to feel that he was not wholly an intruder.

But he was very tentative, fastidiously so, letting Ruth set the pace of sprightliness and fancy, keeping up with her but never daring to go beyond her.
He told her of what he had been doing, and of his plan to write for a livelihood and of going on with his studies.

But he was disappointed at her lack of approval.

She did not think much of his plan.
"You see," she said frankly, "writing must be a trade, like anything else.