"Why, Cousin Mark!" she said. McTeague glared at him, struck speechless,
confused beyond expression. Marcus Schouler, perfectly at his ease,
stood in the doorway, smiling with great affability.
"Say," he remarked, "can I come in?"
Taken all aback, Trina could only answer:
"Why--I suppose so. Yes, of course--come in."
"Yes, yes, come in," exclaimed the dentist, suddenly, speaking without
thought. "Have some beer?" he added, struck with an idea.
"No, thanks, Doctor," said Marcus, pleasantly.
McTeague and Trina were puzzled. What could it all mean? Did Marcus
want to become reconciled to his enemy? "I know." Trina said to herself.
"He's going away, and he wants to borrow some money. He won't get a
penny, not a penny." She set her teeth together hard.
"Well," said Marcus, "how's business, Doctor?"
"Oh," said McTeague, uneasily, "oh, I don' know. I guess--I guess,"
he broke off in helpless embarrassment. They had all sat down by now.
Marcus continued, holding his hat and his cane--the black wand of ebony
with the gold top presented to him by the "Improvement Club."
"Ah!" said he, wagging his head and looking about the sitting-room, "you
people have got the best fixed rooms in the whole flat.
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