"All right, all right," said McTeague. "Drinks, that's the word. I'll go
home and get some money and meet you at Joe's."
Trina was awakened by her husband pinching her arm.
"Oh, Mac," she cried, jumping up in bed with a little scream, "how you
hurt! Oh, that hurt me dreadfully."
"Give me a little money," answered the dentist, grinning, and pinching
her again.
"I haven't a cent. There's not a--oh, MAC, will you stop? I won't have
you pinch me that way."
"Hurry up," answered her husband, calmly, nipping the flesh of her
shoulder between his thumb and finger. "Heise's waiting for me." Trina
wrenched from him with a sharp intake of breath, frowning with pain, and
caressing her shoulder.
"Mac, you've no idea how that hurts. Mac, STOP!"
"Give me some money, then."
In the end Trina had to comply. She gave him half a dollar from her
dress pocket, protesting that it was the only piece of money she had.
"One more, just for luck," said McTeague, pinching her again; "and
another."
"How can you--how CAN you hurt a woman so!" exclaimed Trina, beginning
to cry with the pain.
"Ah, now, CRY," retorted the dentist. "That's right, CRY. I never saw
such a little fool.
Pages:
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365