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Norris, Frank, 1870-1902

"McTeague"

But for that matter, it was never difficult for Trina to
deceive the dentist. He never went to the bottom of things. He would
have believed her if she had told him the chops had cost a dollar.
"There's sixty cents saved, anyhow," thought Trina, as she clutched the
money in her pocket to keep it from rattling.
Trina cooked the chops, and they breakfasted in silence. "Now," said
McTeague as he rose, wiping the coffee from his thick mustache with the
hollow of his palm, "now I'm going fishing, rain or no rain. I'm going
to be gone all day."
He stood for a moment at the door, his fish-line in his hand, swinging
the heavy sinker back and forth. He looked at Trina as she cleared away
the breakfast things.
"So long," said he, nodding his huge square-cut head. This amiability
in the matter of leave taking was unusual. Trina put the dishes down and
came up to him, her little chin, once so adorable, in the air:
"Kiss me good-by, Mac," she said, putting her arms around his neck. "You
DO love me a little yet, don't you, Mac? We'll be happy again some day.
This is hard times now, but we'll pull out. You'll find something to do
pretty soon."
"I guess so," growled McTeague, allowing her to kiss him.


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