The other would have been a landscape gardener."
"Oh, Mac!" exclaimed Trina, looking up into the dentist's face, "think
of all this money coming to us just at this very moment. Isn't it
wonderful? Don't it kind of scare you?"
"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 the end of the table. "The light end
should be rolled to a point."
"Ah, the Chinese cigar-makers," cried Marcus, in a passion, brandishing
his fist. "It's them as is ruining the cause of white labor. They are,
they are for a FACT. Ah, the rat-eaters! Ah, the white-livered curs!"
Over in the corner, by the stand of shelves, Old Grannis was listening
to Maria Macapa. The Mexican woman had been violently stirred over
Trina's sudden wealth; Maria's mind had gone back to her younger days.
She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands, her
eyes wide and fixed. Old Grannis listened to her attentively.
"There wa'n't a piece that was so much as scratched," Maria was saying.
"Every piece was just like a mirror, smooth and bright; oh, bright as a
little sun.
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