McTeague HTML version
"Well, what do you think?" said Trina.
She and McTeague stood in a tiny room at the back of the flat and on its very top
floor. The room was whitewashed. It contained a bed, three cane-seated chairs,
and a wooden washstand with its washbowl and pitcher. From its single
uncurtained window one looked down into the flat's dirty back yard and upon the
roofs of the hovels that bordered the alley in the rear. There was a rag carpet on
the floor. In place of a closet some dozen wooden pegs were affixed to the wall
over the washstand. There was a smell of cheap soap and of ancient hair-oil in
"That's a single bed," said Trina, "but the landlady says she'll put in a double one
for us. You see——"
"I ain't going to live here," growled McTeague.
"Well, you've got to live somewhere," said Trina, impatiently. "We've looked Polk
Street over, and this is the only thing we can afford."
"Afford, afford," muttered the dentist. "You with your five thousand dollars, and
the two or three hundred you got saved up, talking about 'afford.' You make me
"Now, Mac," exclaimed Trina, deliberately, sitting down in one of the cane-seated
chairs; "now, Mac, let's have this thing——"
"Well, I don't figure on living in one room," growled the dentist, sullenly. "Let's live
decently until we can get a fresh start. We've got the money."
"Who's got the money?"
"WE'VE got it."
"Well, it's all in the family. What's yours is mine, and what's mine is yours, ain't
"No, it's not; no, it's not," cried Trina, vehemently. "It's all mine, mine. There's not
a penny of it belongs to anybody else. I don't like to have to talk this way to you,
but you just make me. We're not going to touch a penny of my five thousand nor
a penny of that little money I managed to save—that seventy-five."