“Look here,” continued her husband, fumbling in his trousers pocket and bringing out a dollar, “I'm sick and tired of coffee and bacon and mashed potatoes. Go over to the market and get some kind of meat for breakfast. Get a steak, or chops, or something.
“Why, Mac, that's a whole dollar, and he only gave you five for your sign. We can't afford it. Sure, Mac. Let me put that money away against a rainy day. You're just as well off without meat for breakfast.”
“You do as I tell you. Get some steak, or chops, or something.”
“Please, Mac, dear.”
“Go on, now. I'll bite your fingers again pretty soon.”
“But——”
The dentist took a step towards her, snatching at her hand.
“All right, I'll go,” cried Trina, wincing and shrinking. “I'll go.”
She did not get the chops at the big market, however. Instead, she hurried to a cheaper butcher shop on a side street two blocks away, and bought fifteen cents' worth of chops from a side of mutton some two or three days old. She was gone some little time.
“Give me the change,” exclaimed the dentist as soon as she returned. Trina handed him a quarter; and when McTeague was about to protest, broke in upon him with a rapid stream of talk that confused him upon the instant. 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.