And so, in an atmosphere of soap and water they had worked night after night till very late; and Sam had actually let a well-planned and promising raid go by because he was so interested in what he was doing and he was ashamed to tell Michael of his engagement. Sam had never assisted at the papering of a room before; in fact, it is doubtful if he ever saw a room with clean fresh paper on its walls in all his life, unless in some house he had entered unlawfully. When this one stood arrayed at last in its delicate newness, he stood back and surveyed it in awed silence. Michael had chosen paper of the color of the sunshine, for the court was dark and the alley was dark and the room was dark. The souls of the people too were dark. They must have light and brightness if he would win them to better things. Besides, the paper was only five cents a roll, the cheapest he could find in the city. Michael had learned at college during vacations how to put it on. He made Sam wash and wash and wash his hands before he was allowed to handle any of the delicate paper. “De paper’ll jest git dirty right away,” grumbled Sam sullenly, albeit he washed his hands, and his eyes glowed as they used to when a child at a rare “find” in the gutter. “Wot’ll you do when it gits dirty?” demanded Sam belligerently. “Put on some clean,” said Michael sunnily. “Besides, we must learn to have clean hands and keep it clean.” “I wish we had some curtains,” said Michael wistfully. “They had thin white curtains at college.” “Are you makin’ a college fer we?” asked Sam looking at him sharply. “Well, in a way, perhaps,” said Michael smiling. “You know I want you to have all the advantages I had as far as I can get them.” Sam only whistled and looked perplexed but he was doing more serious thinking than he had ever done in his life before. And so the two had worked, and planned, and now tonight, the work was about finished. The walls reflected the yellow of the sunshine, the woodwork was painted white enamel. Michael had, just put on the last gleaming coat. “We can give it another coat when it looks a little soiled,” he had remarked to Sam, and Sam, frowning, had replied: “Dey better hev dere han’s clean.” The floor was painted gray. There was no rug. Michael felt its lack and meant to remedy it as soon as possible, but rugs cost money. There was a small coal stove set up and polished till it shone, and a fire was laid ready to start. They had not needed it while they were working hard. The furniture was a wooden table painted gray with a cover of bright cretonne, two wooden chairs, and three boxes. Michael had collected these furnishings carefully and economically, for he had to sacrifice many little comforts that he might get them.