With little prospect of repayment from Yojirō, Sanshirō had bitten the bullet and written home for an extra thirty yen. His monthly allowance was adequate to cover expenses, so he couldn't just state that he needed more money. Not being wont to tell lies, he struggled with words to explain his request. Finding no other recourse, he simply wrote that a friend had lost money and landed in a bind. Feeling pity for the fellow, he'd helped him out. As a result, he was now himself in a bind. He very much needed these funds.
The reply, if sent in a timely manner, should have arrived by now. Thinking it might be there this evening, he returned home to his lodgings. Sure enough, an envelope with his mother's writing was waiting on his desk. Curiously, though, it had not come by registered courier. It had merely been mailed with a three-sen stamp. He opened it and took out a terse, business-like note. Coming from his mother, it struck him as cold and impersonal. He was instructed to go see Nonomiya, to whose care the requested funds had been sent. Sanshirō laid out his bedding and retired for the night.
Sanshirō did not call on Nonomiya the next day, nor the day after. Nonomiya, for his part, did not initiate contact. An entire week went by. Finally, Nonomiya sent his maidservant over with a note. He had something for Sanshirō from his mother, and Sanshirō should come for it. During a break between lectures, Sanshirō went back to the cellar in the college of science. He was hoping to settle the matter with a hallway conversation. This plan, however, proved impractical. Nonomiya, in the room he had occupied alone last summer, was now surrounded by mustached men and students in uniform. All were intent and silent in pursuing their work, oblivious to the sunlit world above them. Nonomiya seemed most engaged of all. He noticed Sanshirō at the door and approached without words.