"
"Huh! Think I'm going to do that, an' live in such a room as this?"
Trina folded her arms and looked him squarely in the face.
"Well, what ARE you going to do, then?"
"Huh?"
"I say, what ARE you going to do? You can go on and find something to do
and earn some more money, and THEN we'll talk."
"Well, I ain't going to live here."
"Oh, very well, suit yourself. I'M going to live here."
"You'll live where I TELL you," the dentist suddenly cried, exasperated
at the mincing tone she affected.
"Then YOU'LL pay the rent," exclaimed Trina, quite as angry as he.
"Are you my boss, I'd like to know? Who's the boss, you or I?"
"Who's got the MONEY, I'd like to know?" cried Trina, flushing to her
pale lips. "Answer me that, McTeague, who's got the money?"
"You make me sick, you and your money. Why, you're a miser. I never saw
anything like it. When I was practising, I never thought of my fees as
my own; we lumped everything in together."
"Exactly; and I'M doing the working now. I'm working for Uncle
Oelbermann, and you're not lumping in ANYTHING now. I'm doing it all. Do
you know what I'm doing, McTeague? I'm supporting you."
"Ah, shut up; you make me sick.
Pages:
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327