The instincts of the
old-time miner were returning. In the stress of his misfortune McTeague
was lapsing back to his early estate.
One evening as he reached home after such a tramp, he was surprised to
find Trina standing in front of what had been Zerkow's house, looking at
it thoughtfully, her finger on her lips.
"What you doing here'?" growled the dentist as he came up. There was a
"Rooms-to-let" sign on the street door of the house.
"Now we've found a place to move to," exclaimed Trina.
"What?" cried McTeague. "There, in that dirty house, where you found
Maria?"
"I can't afford that room in the flat any more, now that you can't get
any work to do."
"But there's where Zerkow killed Maria--the very house--an' you wake up
an' squeal in the night just thinking of it."
"I know. I know it will be bad at first, but I'll get used to it, an'
it's just half again as cheap as where we are now. I was looking at a
room; we can have it dirt cheap. It's a back room over the kitchen. A
German family are going to take the front part of the house and sublet
the rest. I'm going to take it. It'll be money in my pocket."
"But it won't be any in mine," vociferated the dentist, angrily.
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