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Updated: June 16, 2025
There had been a time when to kiss Trina, to take her in his arms, had thrilled him from head to heel with a happiness that was beyond words; even the smell of her wonderful odorous hair had sent a sensation of faintness all through him. That time was long past now.
"You're a rich woman, my dear," said Miss Baker, her little false curls quivering with excitement, "and I'm glad for your sake. Let me kiss you. To think I was in the room when you bought the ticket!" "Oh, oh!" interrupted Trina, shaking her head, "there is a mistake. There must be. Why why should I win five thousand dollars? It's nonsense!" "No mistake, no mistake," screamed Maria.
There was a silence. After a long while Marcus suddenly looked up. "Say, Mac," he exclaimed, "when you going to pay me that money you owe me?" McTeague was astonished. "Huh? What? I don't do I owe you any money, Mark?" "Well, you owe me four bits," returned Marcus, doggedly. "I paid for you and Trina that day at the picnic, and you never gave it back." "Oh oh!" answered McTeague, in distress.
Trina made long visits to Maria during the morning in her dressing-gown and curl papers, and the two talked at great length over a cup of tea served on the edge of the sink or a corner of the laundry table. The talk was all of their husbands and of what to do when they came home in aggressive moods. "You never ought to fight um," advised Maria. "It only makes um worse.
He kept his small eyes upon her, and all at once sent his fist into the middle of her face with the suddenness of a relaxed spring. Beside herself with terror, Trina turned and fought him back; fought for her miserable life with the exasperation and strength of a harassed cat; and with such energy and such wild, unnatural force, that even McTeague for the moment drew back from her.
Trina yet stood upon her reserve, and McTeague still felt himself shambling and ungainly in her presence; but that constraint and embarrassment that had followed upon McTeague's blundering declaration broke up little by little. In spite of themselves they were gradually resuming the same relative positions they had occupied when they had first met. But McTeague suffered miserably for all that.
"Ah, what a fine fix you'd get me into," growled the dentist. "I've signed the paper with the owner; that's business, you know, that's business, you know; and now you go back on me. Suppose we'd taken the house, we'd 'a' shared the rent, wouldn't we, just as we do here?" Trina shrugged her shoulders with a great affectation of indifference and began chopping the onions again.
He says it's brought him more patients than even the sign I gave him," she added, pointing to the big golden molar projecting from the office window. "With his fingers! Now, think of that," exclaimed Miss Baker, wagging her head. "Isn't he that strong! It's just wonderful. Cleaning house to-day?" she inquired, glancing at Trina's towelled head. "Um hum," answered Trina.
The party resolved itself into two groups; the Ryers and Mrs. Heise bending over Marcus, while the harness-maker and Trina came and went about McTeague, sitting on the ground, his shirt, a mere blur of red and white, detaching itself violently from the background of pale-green grass.
"I had always believed Schouler to be such a good fellow." "That's because you're so good yourself, Mr. Grannis," responded Trina. "I tell you what, Doc," declared Heise the harness-maker, shaking his finger impressively at the dentist, "you must fight it; you must appeal to the courts; you've been practising too long to be debarred now. The statute of limitations, you know."
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