Worn out, Vandover had just fallen, dropping forward upon his face with a long breath.

He lay still, sleeping at last.

The remnant of the great band of college men went down an adjacent street, raising their cadenced slogan for the last time.

It came through the open window, softened as it were by the warm air, thick with damp, through which it travelled: "Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah!" Naked, exhausted, Vandover slept profoundly, stretched at full length at the foot of the bare, white wall of the room beneath two of the little placards, scrawled with ink, that read, "Stove Here"; "Mona Lisa Here.".