The hall was empty and deserted. The great flat around her seemed new
and huge and strange; she felt horribly alone. Even Maria and the hired
waiter were gone. On one of the floors above she heard a baby crying.
She stood there an instant in the dark hall, in her wedding finery,
looking about her, listening. From the open door of the sitting-room
streamed a gold bar of light.
She went down the hall, by the open door of the sitting-room, going on
toward the hall door of the bedroom.
As she softly passed the sitting-room she glanced hastily in. The lamps
and the gas were burning brightly, the chairs were pushed back from the
table just as the guests had left them, and the table itself, abandoned,
deserted, presented to view the vague confusion of its dishes, its
knives and forks, its empty platters and crumpled napkins. The dentist
sat there leaning on his elbows, his back toward her; against the white
blur of the table he looked colossal. Above his giant shoulders rose his
thick, red neck and mane of yellow hair. The light shone pink through
the gristle of his enormous ears.
Trina entered the bedroom, closing the door after her. At the sound, she
heard McTeague start and rise.
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