Marcus began telling her about McTeague. "We're pals," he
explained, just above a whisper. "Ah, Mac's all right, you bet. Say,
Trina, he's the strongest duck you ever saw. What do you suppose? He can
pull out your teeth with his fingers; yes, he can. What do you think of
that? With his fingers, mind you; he can, for a fact. Get on to the size
of him, anyhow. Ah, Mac's all right!"
Maria Macapa had come into the room while he had been speaking. She was
making up McTeague's bed. Suddenly Marcus exclaimed under his breath:
"Now we'll have some fun. It's the girl that takes care of the rooms.
She's a greaser, and she's queer in the head. She ain't regularly crazy,
but I don't know, she's queer. Y'ought to hear her go on about a gold
dinner service she says her folks used to own. Ask her what her name is
and see what she'll say." Trina shrank back, a little frightened.
"No, you ask," she whispered.
"Ah, go on; what you 'fraid of?" urged Marcus. Trina shook her head
energetically, shutting her lips together.
"Well, listen here," answered Marcus, nudging her; then raising his
voice, he said:
"How do, Maria?" Maria nodded to him over her shoulder as she bent over
the lounge.
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