"No, I won't; no, I won't; I won't either," he shouted. "I'll pay my half and he can come to you for the other half." Trina put a hand over her ear to shut out his clamor.
"Ah, don't try and be smart," cried McTeague. "Come, now, yes or no, will you pay your half?"
"You heard what I said."
"Will you pay it?"
"No."
"Miser!" shouted McTeague. "Miser! you're worse than old Zerkow. All right, all right, keep your money. I'll pay the whole thirty-five. I'd rather lose it than be such a miser as you."
"Haven't you got anything to do," returned Trina, "instead of staying here and abusing me?"
"Well, then, for the last time, will you help me out?" Trina cut the heads of a fresh bunch of onions and gave no answer.
"Huh? will you?"
"I'd like to have my kitchen to myself, please," she said in a mincing way, irritating to a last degree. The dentist stamped out of the room, banging the door behind him.