"Trina!" almost screamed her mother. "Five tausend thalers! five tausend thalers! If popper were only here!"
"What is it — what is it?" exclaimed McTeague, rolling his eyes.
"What are you going to do with it, Trina?" inquired Marcus.
"You're a rich woman, my dear," said Miss Baker, her little false curls quivering with excitement, "and I'm glad for your sake. Let me kiss you. To think I was in the room when you bought the ticket!"
"Oh, oh!" interrupted Trina, shaking her head, "there is a mistake. There must be. Why — why should I win five thousand dollars? It's nonsense!"
"No mistake, no mistake," screamed Maria. "Your number was 400,012. Here it is in the paper this evening. I remember it well, because I keep an account."
"But I know you're wrong," answered Trina, beginning to tremble in spite of herself. "Why should I win?"
"Eh? Why shouldn't you?" cried her mother.
In fact, why shouldn't she? The idea suddenly occurred to Trina. After all, it was not a question of effort or merit on her part. Why should she suppose a mistake? What if it were true, this wonderful fillip of fortune striking in there like some chance-driven bolt?
"Oh, do you think so?" she gasped.