McTeague HTML version

"What nonsense!" answered Trina.
"Ach Gott! What is ut?" cried Mrs. Sieppe, misunderstanding, supposing a
"What—what—what," stammered the dentist, confused by the lights, the crowded
stairway, the medley of voices. The party 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 thousand dollars," cried
Maria. "Don't you remember the lottery ticket I sold you in Doctor McTeague's
"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 his eyes.
"What are you going to do with it, Trina?" inquired Marcus.
"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. "Your number was 400,012. Here it is
in the paper this evening. I remember it well, because I keep an account."
"But I know you're wrong," answered Trina, beginning to tremble 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 to Trina. After all, it was
not a question of effort or merit on her part. Why should she suppose a mistake?
What if it were true, this wonderful fillip of fortune striking in there like some
chance-driven bolt?