Chapter 7

by Frank Norris

　　"What nonsense!" answered Trina."Ach Gott! What is ut?" cried Mrs. Sieppe,misunderstanding, supposing a calamity."What--what--what," stammered the dentist, confused by thelights, the crowded stairway, the medley of voices. Theparty reached the landing. The others surrounded them.Marcus alone seemed to rise to the occasion."Le' me be the first to congratulate you," he cried,catching Trina's hand. Every one was talking at once."Miss Sieppe, Miss Sieppe, your ticket has won five thousanddollars," cried Maria. "Don't you remember the lotteryticket I sold you in Doctor McTeague's office?""Trina!" almost screamed her mother. "Five tausend thalers!five tausend thalers! If popper were only here!""What is it--what is it?" exclaimed McTeague, rolling hiseyes."What are you going to do with it, Trina?" inquired Marcus."You're a rich woman, my dear," said Miss Baker, her littlefalse curls quivering with excitement, "and I'm glad foryour sake. Let me kiss you. To think I was in the roomwhen you bought the ticket!""Oh, oh!" interrupted Trina, shaking her head, "there is amistake. There must be. Why--why should I win fivethousand dollars? It's nonsense!""No mistake, no mistake," screamed Maria. "Your number was400,012. Here it is in the paper this evening. I rememberit well, because I keep an account.""But I know you're wrong," answered Trina, beginning totremble in spite of herself. "Why should I win?""Eh? Why shouldn't you?" cried her mother.In fact, why shouldn't she? The idea suddenly occurred toTrina. After all, it was not a question of effort or meriton her part. Why should she suppose a mistake? What if itwere true, this wonderful fillip of fortune striking inthere like some chance-driven bolt?"Oh, do you think so?" she gasped.The stranger in the drab overcoat came forward."It's the agent," cried two or three voices, simultaneously."I guess you're one of the lucky ones, Miss Sieppe," hesaid. I suppose you have kept your ticket.""Yes, yes; four three oughts twelve--I remember.""That's right," admitted the other. "Present your ticket atthe local branch office as soon as possible--the address isprinted on the back of the ticket--and you'll receive acheck on our bank for five thousand dollars. Your numberwill have to be verified on our official list, but there'shardly a chance of a mistake. I congratulate you."All at once a great shrill of gladness surged up in Trina.She was to possess five thousand dollars. She was carriedaway with the joy of her good fortune, a natural,spontaneous joy--the gaiety of a child with a new andwonderful toy."Oh, I've won, I've won, I've won!" she cried, clapping herhands. "Mamma, think of it. I've won five thousanddollars, just by buying a ticket. Mac, what do you say tothat? I've got five thousand dollars. August, do you hearwhat's happened to sister?""Kiss your mommer, Trina," suddenly commanded Mrs. Sieppe."What efer will you do mit all dose money, eh, Trina?""Huh!" exclaimed Marcus. "Get married on it for one thing.Thereat they all shouted with laughter. McTeague grinned,and looked about sheepishly. "Talk about luck," mutteredMarcus, shaking his head at the dentist; then suddenly headded:"Well, are we going to stay talking out here in the hall allnight? Can't we all come into your 'Parlors,' Mac?""Sure, sure," exclaimed McTeague, hastily unlocking hisdoor."Efery botty gome," cried Mrs. Sieppe, genially. "Ain't utso, Doktor?""Everybody," repeated the dentist. "There's--there's somebeer.""We'll celebrate, by damn!" exclaimed Marcus. "It ain'tevery day you win five thousand dollars. It's only Sundaysand legal holidays." Again he set the company off into agale of laughter. Anything was funny at a time like this.In some way every one of them felt elated. The wheel offortune had come spinning close to them. They were near tothis great sum of money. It was as though they too had won."Here's right where I sat when I bought that ticket," criedTrina, after they had come into the "Parlors," and Marcushad lit the gas. "Right here in this chair." She sat downin one of the rigid chairs under the steel engraving."And, Marcus, you sat here----""And I was just getting out of the operating chair,"interposed Miss Baker."Yes, yes. That's so; and you," continued Trina, pointingto Maria, "came up and said, 'Buy a ticket in the lottery;just a dollar.' Oh, I remember it just as plain as thoughit was yesterday, and I wasn't going to at first----""And don't you know I told Maria it was against the law?""Yes, I remember, and then I gave her a dollar and put theticket in my pocketbook. It's in my pocketbook now at homein the top drawer of my bureau--oh, suppose it should bestolen now," she suddenly exclaimed."It's worth big money now," asserted Marcus."Five thousand dollars. Who would have thought it? It'swonderful." Everybody started and turned. It was McTeague.He stood in the middle of the floor, wagging his huge head.He seemed to have just realized what had happened."Yes, sir, five thousand dollars!" exclaimed Marcus, with asudden unaccountable mirthlessness. "Five thousand dollars!Do you get on to that? Cousin Trina and you will be richpeople.""At six per cent, that's twenty-five dollars a month,"hazarded the agent."Think of it. Think of it," muttered McTeague. He wentaimlessly about the room, his eyes wide, his enormous handsdangling."A cousin of mine won forty dollars once," observed MissBaker. "But he spent every cent of it buying more tickets,and never won anything."Then the reminiscences began. Maria told about the butcheron the next block who had won twenty dollars the lastdrawing. Mrs. Sieppe knew a gasfitter in Oakland who had wonseveral times; once a hundred dollars. Little Miss Bakerannounced that she had always believed that lotteries werewrong; but, just the same, five thousand was five thousand."It's all right when you win, ain't it, Miss Baker?"observed Marcus, with a certain sarcasm. What was thematter with Marcus? At moments he seemed singularly out oftemper.But the agent was full of stories. He told his experiences,the legends and myths that had grown up around the historyof the lottery; he told of the poor newsboy with a dyingmother to support who had drawn a prize of fifteen thousand;of the man who was driven to suicide through want, but whoheld (had he but known it) the number that two days afterhis death drew the capital prize of thirty thousand dollars;of the little milliner who for ten years had played thelottery without success, and who had one day declared thatshe would buy but one more ticket and then give up trying,and of how this last ticket had brought her a fortune uponwhich she could retire; of tickets that had been lost ordestroyed, and whose numbers had won fabulous sums at thedrawing; of criminals, driven to vice by poverty, and whohad reformed after winning competencies; of gamblers whoplayed the lottery as they would play a faro bank, turningin their winnings again as soon as made, buying thousands oftickets all over the country; of superstitions as toterminal and initial numbers, and as to lucky days ofpurchase; of marvellous coincidences--three capital prizesdrawn consecutively by the same town; a ticket bought by amillionaire and given to his boot-black, who won a thousanddollars upon it; the same number winning the same amount anindefinite number of times; and so on to infinity.Invariably it was the needy who won, the destitute andstarving woke to wealth and plenty, the virtuous toilersuddenly found his reward in a ticket bought at a hazard;the lottery was a great charity, the friend of the people, avast beneficent machine that recognized neither rank norwealth nor station.The company began to be very gay. Chairs and tables werebrought in from the adjoining rooms, and Maria was sent outfor more beer and tamales, and also commissioned to buy abottle of wine and some cake for Miss Baker, who abhorredbeer.The "Dental Parlors" were in great confusion. Empty beerbottles stood on the movable rack where the instruments werekept; plates and napkins were upon the seat of theoperating chair and upon the stand of shelves in the corner,side by side with the concertina and the volumes of "Allen'sPractical Dentist." The canary woke and chittered crossly,his feathers puffed out; the husks of tamales littered thefloor; the stone pug dog sitting before the little stovestared at the unusual scene, his glass eyes starting fromtheir sockets.They drank and feasted in impromptu fashion. MarcusSchouler assumed the office of master of ceremonies; he wasin a lather of excitement, rushing about here and there,opening beer bottles, serving the tamales, slapping McTeagueupon the back, laughing and joking continually. He madeMcTeague sit at the head of the table, with Trina at hisright and the agent at his left; he--when he sat down atall--occupied the foot, Maria Macapa at his left, while nextto her was Mrs. Sieppe, opposite Miss Baker. Owgooste hadbeen put to bed upon the bed-lounge."Where's Old Grannis?" suddenly exclaimed Marcus. Sureenough, where had the old Englishman gone? He had beenthere at first."I called him down with everybody else," cried Maria Macapa,"as soon as I saw in the paper that Miss Sieppe had won. Weall came down to Mr. Schouler's room and waited for you tocome home. I think he must have gone back to his room.I'll bet you'll find him sewing up his books.""No, no," observed Miss Baker, "not at this hour."Evidently the timid old gentleman had taken advantage of theconfusion to slip unobtrusively away."I'll go bring him down," shouted Marcus; "he's got to joinus."Miss Baker was in great agitation."I--I hardly think you'd better," she murmured; "he--he--Idon't think he drinks beer.""He takes his amusement in sewin' up books," cried Maria.Marcus brought him down, nevertheless, having found him justpreparing for bed."I--I must apologize," stammered Old Grannis, as he stoodin the doorway. "I had not quite expected--I--find--find myself a little unprepared." He was without collar andcravat, owing to Marcus Schouler's precipitate haste. Hewas annoyed beyond words that Miss Baker saw him thus.Could anything be more embarrassing?Old Grannis was introduced to Mrs. Sieppe and to Trina asMarcus's employer. They shook hands solemnly."I don't believe that he an' Miss Baker have ever beenintroduced," cried Maria Macapa, shrilly, "an' they've beenlivin' side by side for years."The two old people were speechless, avoiding each other'sgaze. It had come at last; they were to know each other, totalk together, to touch each other's hands.Marcus brought Old Grannis around the table to little MissBaker, dragging him by the coat sleeve, exclaiming: "Well, Ithought you two people knew each other long ago. MissBaker, this is Mr. Grannis; Mr. Grannis, this is MissBaker." Neither spoke. Like two little children they facedeach other, awkward, constrained, tongue-tied withembarrassment. Then Miss Baker put out her hand shyly. OldGrannis touched it for an instant and let it fall."Now you know each other," cried Marcus, "and it's abouttime." For the first time their eyes met; Old Grannistrembled a little, putting his hand uncertainly to his chin.Miss Baker flushed ever so slightly, but Maria Macapa passedsuddenly between them, carrying a half empty beer bottle.The two old people fell back from one another, Miss Bakerresuming her seat."Here's a place for you over here, Mr. Grannis," criedMarcus, making room for him at his side. Old Grannisslipped into the chair, withdrawing at once from thecompany's notice. He stared fixedly at his plate and didnot speak again. Old Miss Baker began to talk volublyacross the table to Mrs. Sieppe about hot-house flowers andmedicated flannels.It was in the midst of this little impromptu supper that theengagement of Trina and the dentist was announced. In apause in the chatter of conversation Mrs. Sieppe leanedforward and, speaking to the agent, said:"Vell, you know also my daughter Trina get married brettysoon. She and der dentist, Doktor McTeague, eh, yes?"There was a general exclamation."I thought so all along," cried Miss Baker, excitedly. "Thefirst time I saw them together I said, 'What a pair!'""Delightful!" exclaimed the agent, "to be married and win asnug little fortune at the same time.""So--So," murmured Old Grannis, nodding at his plate."Good luck to you," cried Maria."He's lucky enough already," growled Marcus under hisbreath, relapsing for a moment into one of those strangemoods of sullenness which had marked him throughout theevening.Trina flushed crimson, drawing shyly nearer her mother.McTeague grinned from ear to ear, looking around from one toanother, exclaiming "Huh! Huh!"But the agent rose to his feet, a newly filled beer glass inhis hand. He was a man of the world, this agent. He knewlife. He was suave and easy. A diamond was on his littlefinger."Ladies and gentlemen," he began. There was an instantsilence. "This is indeed a happy occasion. I--I am glad tobe here to-night; to be a witness to such good fortune; topartake in these--in this celebration. Why, I feel almost asglad as if I had held four three oughts twelve myself; as ifthe five thousand were mine instead of belonging to ourcharming hostess. The good wishes of my humble self go outto Miss Sieppe in this moment of her good fortune, and Ithink--in fact, I am sure I can speak for the greatinstitution, the great company I represent. The companycongratulates Miss Sieppe. We--they--ah--They wish her everyhappiness her new fortune can procure her. It has been myduty, my--ah--cheerful duty to call upon the winners oflarge prizes and to offer the felicitation of the company.I have, in my experience, called upon many such; but neverhave I seen fortune so happily bestowed as in this case.The company have dowered the prospective bride. I amsure I but echo the sentiments of this assembly when I wishall joy and happiness to this happy pair, happy in thepossession of a snug little fortune, and happy--happy in--"he finished with a sudden inspiration--"in the possession ofeach other; I drink to the health, wealth, and happiness ofthe future bride and groom. Let us drink standing up."They drank with enthusiasm. Marcus was carried away withthe excitement of the moment."Outa sight, outa sight," he vociferated, clapping hishands. "Very well said. To the health of the bride.McTeague, McTeague, speech, speech!"In an instant the whole table was clamoring for the dentistto speak. McTeague was terrified; he gripped the table withboth hands, looking wildly about him."Speech, speech!" shouted Marcus, running around the tableand endeavoring to drag McTeague up."No--no--no," muttered the other. "No speech." The companyrattled upon the table with their beer glasses, insistingupon a speech. McTeague settled obstinately into his chair,very red in the face, shaking his head energetically."Ah, go on!" he exclaimed; "no speech.""Ah, get up and say somethun, anyhow," persisted Marcus;"you ought to do it. It's the proper caper."McTeague heaved himself up; there was a burst of applause;he looked slowly about him, then suddenly sat down again,shaking his head hopelessly."Oh, go on, Mac," cried Trina."Get up, say somethun, anyhow, cried Marcus, tugging at hisarm; "you got to."Once more McTeague rose to his feet."Huh!" he exclaimed, looking steadily at the table. Then hebegan:"I don' know what to say--I--I--I ain't never made a speechbefore; I--I ain't never made a speech before. But I'm gladTrina's won the prize--""Yes, I'll bet you are," muttered Marcus."I--I--I'm glad Trina's won, and I--I want to--I wantto--I want to--want to say that--you're--all--welcome, an'drink hearty, an' I'm much obliged to the agent. Trina andI are goin' to be married, an' I'm glad everybody's here to-night, an' you're--all--welcome, an' drink hearty, an' Ihope you'll come again, an' you're always welcome--an'--I--an'--an'--That's--about--all--I--gotta say." He sat down,wiping his forehead, amidst tremendous applause.Soon after that the company pushed back from the table andrelaxed into couples and groups. The men, with theexception of Old Grannis, began to smoke, the smell of theirtobacco mingling with the odors of ether, creosote, andstale bedding, which pervaded the "Parlors." Soon thewindows had to be lowered from the top. Mrs. Sieppe andold Miss Baker sat together in the bay window exchangingconfidences. Miss Baker had turned back the overskirt ofher dress; a plate of cake was in her lap; from time to timeshe sipped her wine with the delicacy of a white cat. Thetwo women were much interested in each other. Miss Bakertold Mrs. Sieppe all about Old Grannis, not forgetting thefiction of the title and the unjust stepfather."He's quite a personage really," said Miss Baker.Mrs. Sieppe led the conversation around to her children."Ach, Trina is sudge a goote girl," she said; "always gay,yes, und sing from morgen to night. Und Owgooste, he is sohsmart also, yes, eh? He has der genius for machines, alwaysmaking somethun mit wheels und sbrings.""Ah, if--if--I had children," murmured the little old maid atrifle wistfully, "one would have been a sailor; he wouldhave begun as a midshipman on my brother's ship; in time hewould have been an officer. The other would have been alandscape gardener.""Oh, Mac!" exclaimed Trina, looking up into the dentist'sface, "think of all this money coming to us just at thisvery moment. Isn't it wonderful? Don't it kind of scareyou?""Wonderful, wonderful!" muttered McTeague, shaking his head."Let's buy a lot of tickets," he added, struck with an idea."Now, that's how you can always tell a good cigar,"observed the agent to Marcus as the two sat smoking at theend of the table. "The light end should be rolled to apoint.""Ah, the Chinese cigar-makers," cried Marcus, in a passion,brandishing his fist. "It's them as is ruining the cause ofwhite labor. They are, they are for a fact. Ah, therat-eaters! Ah, the white-livered curs!"Over in the corner, by the stand of shelves, Old Grannis waslistening to Maria Macapa. The Mexican woman had beenviolently stirred over Trina's sudden wealth; Maria's mindhad gone back to her younger days. She leaned forward, herelbows on her knees, her chin in her hands, her eyes wideand fixed. Old Grannis listened to her attentively."There wa'n't a piece that was so much as scratched," Mariawas saying. "Every piece was just like a mirror, smooth andbright; oh, bright as a little sun. Such a service as thatwas--platters and soup tureens and an immense big punch-bowl. Five thousand dollars, what does that amount to? Why,that punch-bowl alone was worth a fortune.""What a wonderful story!" exclaimed Old Grannis, never foran instant doubting its truth. "And it's all lost now, yousay?""Lost, lost," repeated Maria."Tut, tut! What a pity! What a pity!"Suddenly the agent rose and broke out with:"Well, I must be going, if I'm to get any car."He shook hands with everybody, offered a parting cigar toMarcus, congratulated McTeague and Trina a last time, andbowed himself out."What an elegant gentleman," commented Miss Baker."Ah," said Marcus, nodding his head, "there's a man of theworld for you. Right on to himself, by damn!"The company broke up."Come along, Mac," cried Marcus; "we're to sleep with thedogs to-night, you know."The two friends said "Good-night" all around and departedfor the little dog hospital.Old Grannis hurried to his room furtively, terrifiedlest he should again be brought face to face with MissBaker. He bolted himself in and listened until he heard herfoot in the hall and the soft closing of her door. She wasthere close beside him; as one might say, in the same room;for he, too, had made the discovery as to the similarity ofthe wallpaper. At long intervals he could hear a faintrustling as she moved about. What an evening that had beenfor him! He had met her, had spoken to her, had touched herhand; he was in a tremor of excitement. In a like mannerthe little old dressmaker listened and quivered. He wasthere in that same room which they shared in common,separated only by the thinnest board partition. He wasthinking of her, she was almost sure of it. They werestrangers no longer; they were acquaintances, friends. Whatan event that evening had been in their lives!Late as it was, Miss Baker brewed a cup of tea and sat downin her rocking chair close to the partition; she rockedgently, sipping her tea, calming herself after the emotionsof that wonderful evening.Old Grannis heard the clinking of the tea things and smeltthe faint odor of the tea. It seemed to him a signal, aninvitation. He drew his chair close to his side of thepartition, before his work-table. A pile of half-bound"Nations" was in the little binding apparatus; he threadedhis huge upholsterer's needle with stout twine and set towork.It was their tete-a-tete. Instinctively they felt eachother's presence, felt each other's thought coming to themthrough the thin partition. It was charming; they wereperfectly happy. There in the stillness that settled overthe flat in the half hour after midnight the two old people"kept company," enjoying after their fashion their littleromance that had come so late into the lives of each.On the way to her room in the garret Maria Macapa pausedunder the single gas-jet that burned at the top of the wellof the staircase; she assured herself that she was alone,and then drew from her pocket one of McTeague's "tapes" ofnon-cohesive gold. It was the most valuable steal shehad ever yet made in the dentist's "Parlors." She toldherself that it was worth at least a couple of dollars.Suddenly an idea occurred to her, and she went hastily to awindow at the end of the hall, and, shading her face withboth hands, looked down into the little alley just back ofthe flat. On some nights Zerkow, the red-headed Polish Jew,sat up late, taking account of the week's ragpicking. Therewas a dim light in his window now.Maria went to her room, threw a shawl around her head, anddescended into the little back yard of the flat by the backstairs. As she let herself out of the back gate into thealley, Alexander, Marcus's Irish setter, woke suddenly witha gruff bark. The collie who lived on the other side of thefence, in the back yard of the branch post-office, answeredwith a snarl. Then in an instant the endless feud betweenthe two dogs was resumed. They dragged their respectivekennels to the fence, and through the cracks raged at eachother in a frenzy of hate; their teeth snapped and gleamed;the hackles on their backs rose and stiffened. Theirhideous clamor could have been heard for blocks around. Whata massacre should the two ever meet!Meanwhile, Maria was knocking at Zerkow's miserable hovel."Who is it? Who is it?" cried the rag-picker from within,in his hoarse voice, that was half whisper, startingnervously, and sweeping a handful of silver into his drawer."It's me, Maria Macapa;" then in a lower voice, and as ifspeaking to herself, "had a flying squirrel an' let him go.""Ah, Maria," cried Zerkow, obsequiously opening the door."Come in, come in, my girl; you're always welcome, even aslate as this. No junk, hey? But you're welcome for allthat. You'll have a drink, won't you?" He led her into hisback room and got down the whiskey bottle and the broken redtumbler.After the two had drunk together Maria produced the gold"tape." Zerkow's eyes glittered on the instant. The sightof gold invariably sent a qualm all through him; try as hewould, he could not repress it. His fingers trembled andclawed at his mouth; his breath grew short."Ah, ah, ah!" he exclaimed, "give it here, give it here;give it to me, Maria. That's a good girl, come give it tome."They haggled as usual over the price, but to-night Maria wastoo excited over other matters to spend much time inbickering over a few cents."Look here, Zerkow," she said as soon as the transfer wasmade, "I got something to tell you. A little while ago Isold a lottery ticket to a girl at the flat; the drawing wasin this evening's papers. How much do you suppose that girlhas won?""I don't know. How much? How much?""Five thousand dollars."It was as though a knife had been run through the Jew; aspasm of an almost physical pain twisted his face--hisentire body. He raised his clenched fists into the air, hiseyes shut, his teeth gnawing his lip."Five thousand dollars," he whispered; "five thousanddollars. For what? For nothing, for simply buying a ticket;and I have worked so hard for it, so hard, so hard. Fivethousand dollars, five thousand dollars. Oh, why couldn'tit have come to me?" he cried, his voice choking, the tearsstarting to his eyes; "why couldn't it have come to me? Tocome so close, so close, and yet to miss me--me who haveworked for it, fought for it, starved for it, am dying forit every day. Think of it, Maria, five thousand dollars,all bright, heavy pieces----""Bright as a sunset," interrupted Maria, her chin propped onher hands. "Such a glory, and heavy. Yes, every piece washeavy, and it was all you could do to lift the punch-bowl.Why, that punch-bowl was worth a fortune alone----""And it rang when you hit it with your knuckles, didn't it?"prompted Zerkow, eagerly, his lips trembling, his fingershooking themselves into claws."Sweeter'n any church bell," continued Maria."Go on, go on, go on," cried Zerkow, drawing his chaircloser, and shutting his eyes in ecstasy."There were more than a hundred pieces, and every one ofthem gold----""Ah, every one of them gold.""You should have seen the sight when the leather trunk wasopened. There wa'n't a piece that was so much as scratched;every one was like a mirror, smooth and bright, polished sothat it looked black--you know how I mean.""Oh, I know, I know," cried Zerkow, moistening his lips.Then he plied her with questions--questions that coveredevery detail of that service of plate. It was soft, wasn'tit? You could bite into a plate and leave a dent? Thehandles of the knives, now, were they gold, too? All theknife was made from one piece of gold, was it? And theforks the same? The interior of the trunk was quilted, ofcourse? Did Maria ever polish the plates herself? When thecompany ate off this service, it must have made a finenoise--these gold knives and forks clinking together uponthese gold plates."Now, let's have it all over again, Maria," pleaded Zerkow."Begin now with 'There were more than a hundred pieces, andevery one of them gold.' Go on, begin, begin, begin!"The red-headed Pole was in a fever of excitement. Maria'srecital had become a veritable mania with him. As helistened, with closed eyes and trembling lips, he fancied hecould see that wonderful plate before him, there on thetable, under his eyes, under his hand, ponderous, massive,gleaming. He tormented Maria into a second repetition ofthe story--into a third. The more his mind dwelt upon it,the sharper grew his desire. Then, with Maria's refusal tocontinue the tale, came the reaction. Zerkow awoke as fromsome ravishing dream. The plate was gone, was irretrievablylost. There was nothing in that miserable room but grimyrags and rust-corroded iron. What torment! what agony! tobe so near--so near, to see it in one's distorted fancy asplain as in a mirror. To know every individual piece as anold friend; to feel its weight; to be dazzled by itsglitter; to call it one's own, own; to have it to oneself,hugged to the breast; and then to start, to wake, to comedown to the horrible reality."And you, you had it once," gasped Zerkow, clawing ather arm; "you had it once, all your own. Think of it,and now it's gone.""Gone for good and all.""Perhaps it's buried near your old place somewhere.""It's gone--gone--gone," chanted Maria in a monotone.Zerkow dug his nails into his scalp, tearing at his redhair."Yes, yes, it's gone, it's gone--lost forever! Lostforever!"Marcus and the dentist walked up the silent street andreached the little dog hospital. They had hardly spoken onthe way. McTeague's brain was in a whirl; speech failed him.He was busy thinking of the great thing that had happenedthat night, and was trying to realize what its effect wouldbe upon his life--his life and Trina's. As soon as they hadfound themselves in the street, Marcus had relapsed at onceto a sullen silence, which McTeague was too abstracted tonotice.They entered the tiny office of the hospital with its redcarpet, its gas stove, and its colored prints of famous dogshanging against the walls. In one corner stood the iron bedwhich they were to occupy."You go on an' get to bed, Mac," observed Marcus. "I'll takea look at the dogs before I turn in."He went outside and passed along into the yard, that wasbounded on three sides by pens where the dogs were kept. Abull terrier dying of gastritis recognized him and began towhimper feebly.Marcus paid no attention to the dogs. For the first timethat evening he was alone and could give vent to histhoughts. He took a couple of turns up and down the yard,then suddenly in a low voice exclaimed:"You fool, you fool, Marcus Schouler! If you'd kept Trinayou'd have had that money. You might have had it yourself.You've thrown away your chance in life--to give up the girl,yes--but this," he stamped his foot with rage--"to throwfive thousand dollars out of the window--to stuff it intothe pockets of someone else, when it might have beenyours, when you might have had Trina and the money--andall for what? Because we were pals . Oh, 'pals' is allright--but five thousand dollars--to have played it rightinto his hands--God damn the luck!"