“Well, I've been hungry myself. Besides, I DON'T believe you.”
“Trina, I ain't had a thing to eat since yesterday morning; that's God's truth. Even if I did get off with your money, you CAN'T see me starve, can you? You can't see me walk the streets all night because I ain't got a place to sleep. Will you let me in? Say, will you? Huh?”
“No.”
“Well, will you give me some money then—just a little? Give me a dollar. Give me half a dol—Say, give me a DIME, an' I can get a cup of coffee.”
“No.”
The dentist paused and looked at her with curious intentness, bewildered, nonplussed.
“Say, you—you must be crazy, Trina. I—I—wouldn't let a DOG go hungry.”
“Not even if he'd bitten you, perhaps.”
The dentist stared again.
There was another pause. McTeague looked up at her in silence, a mean and vicious twinkle coming into his small eyes. He uttered a low exclamation, and then checked himself.