These damn college sports thought they owned the town.

"Ah, let's get out of here, Van!" he called over the heads of the throng as soon as Vandover came in sight.
They went out into the street and started in the direction of the restaurant where they had decided to eat their Thanksgiving dinner.
After leaving Vandover that afternoon Ellis had seen the head waiter of this restaurant and had explained to him the bill of fare that Vandover, the Dummy, and himself had arranged during their lunch at the Lick House.

The streets had relapsed into a momentary quiet--it was between half-past six and seven--and most of the college men were gathered into the hotels and cafes eating dinner.

About an hour later they would reappear again for a moment on their way to the theatre, which they were to attend in a body.
But Vandover suddenly discovered that he could not eat a mouthful, the smell of food revolted him, and little by little an irregular twitching had overcome his hands and forearms.
He had received a great shock.

That same evening, as he was leaving the hotel, the clerk at the office had handed him some letters that had accumulated in his box.