“Kissmegood-by,Mac,“shesaid,puttingherarmsaroundhisneck。“YouDOlovemealittleyet,don’tyou,Mac?We’llbehappyagainsomeday。Thisishardtimesnow,butwe’llpullout。You’llfindsomethingtodoprettysoon。“
“Iguessso,“growledMcTeague,allowinghertokisshim。
Thecanarywasstirringnimblyinitscage,andjustnowbrokeoutintoashrilltrilling,itslittlethroatbulgingandquivering。Thedentiststaredatit。“Say,“heremarkedslowly,“IthinkI’lltakethatbirdofminealong。“
“Sellit?“inquiredTrina。
“Yes,yes,sellit。“
“Well,youAREcomingtoyoursensesatlast,“answeredTrina,approvingly。“Butdon’tyouletthebird-storemancheatyou。That’sagoodsongster;andwiththecage,yououghttomakehimgiveyoufivedollars。Youstickoutforthatatfirst,anyhow。“
McTeagueunhookedthecageandcarefullywrappeditinanoldnewspaper,remarking,“Hemightgetcold。Well,solong,“herepeated,“solong。“
“Good-by,Mac。“
Whenhewasgone,Trinatookthesixtycentsshehadstolenfromhimoutofherpocketandrecountedit。“It’ssixtycents,allright,“shesaidproudly。“ButIDObelievethatdimeistoosmooth。“Shelookedatitcritically。Theclockonthepower-houseoftheSutterStreetcablestruckeight。“Eighto’clockalready,“sheexclaimed。“Imustgettowork。“Sheclearedthebreakfastthingsfromthetable,anddrawingupherchairandherworkboxbeganpaintingthesetsofNoah’sarkanimalsshehadwhittledthedaybefore。
Sheworkedsteadilyallthemorning。Atnoonshelunched,warmingoverthecoffeeleftfrombreakfast,andfryingacoupleofsausages。Byoneshewasbendingoverhertableagain。Herfingers——someofthemlaceratedbyMcTeague’steeth——flew,andthelittlepileofcheaptoysinthebasketatherelbowgrewsteadily。
“WhereDOallthetoysgoto?“shemurmured。“ThethousandsandthousandsoftheseNoah’sarksthatIhavemade——horsesandchickensandelephants——andalwaysthereneverseemstobeenough。It’sagoodthingformethatchildrenbreaktheirthings,andthattheyallhavetohavebirthdaysandChristmases。“ShedippedherbrushintoapotofVandykebrownandpaintedoneofthewhittledtoyhorsesintwostrokes。Thenatouchofivoryblackwithasmallflatbrushcreatedthetailandmane,anddotsofChinesewhitemadetheeyes。Theturpentineinthepaintdrieditalmostimmediately,andshetossedthecompletedlittlehorseintothebasket。
Atsixo’clockthedentisthadnotreturned。Trinawaiteduntilseven,andthenputherworkaway,andatehersupperalone。
“Iwonderwhat’skeepingMac,“sheexclaimedastheclockfromthepower-houseonSutterStreetstruckhalf-pastseven。“IKNOWhe’sdrinkingsomewhere,“shecried,apprehensively。“Hehadthemoneyfromhissignwithhim。“
Ateighto’clockshethrewashawloverherheadandwentovertotheharnessshop。IfanybodywouldknowwhereMcTeaguewasitwouldbeHeise。Buttheharness-makerhadseennothingofhimsincethedaybefore。
“Hewasinhereyesterdayafternoon,andwehadadrinkortwoatFrenna’s。Maybehe’sbeeninthereto-day。“
“Oh,won’tyougoinandsee?“saidTrina。“Macalwayscamehometohissupper——heneverlikestomisshismeals——andI’mgettingfrightenedabouthim。“
Heisewentintothebarroomnextdoor,andreturnedwithnodefinitenews。Frennahadnotseenthedentistsincehehadcomeinwiththeharness-makerthepreviousafternoon。
TrinaevenhumbledherselftoaskoftheRyers——withwhomtheyhadquarrelled——iftheyknewanythingofthedentist’swhereabouts,butreceivedacontemptuousnegative。
“Maybehe’scomeinwhileI’vebeenout,“saidTrinatoherself。ShewentdownPolkStreetagain,goingtowardstheflat。Therainhadstopped,butthesidewalkswerestillglistening。Thecablecarstrundledby,loadedwiththeatregoers。Thebarberswerejustclosingtheirshops。
Thecandystoreonthecornerwasbrilliantlylightedandwasfillingup,whilethegreenandyellowlampsfromthedrugstoredirectlyoppositethrewkaleidoscopicreflectionsdeepdownintotheshiningsurfaceoftheasphalt。A
bandofSalvationistsbegantoplayandprayinfrontofFrenna’ssaloon。Trinahurriedondownthegaystreet,withitsevening’sbrilliancyandsmallactivities,hershawloverherhead,onehandliftingherfadedskirtfromoffthewetpavements。Sheturnedintothealley,enteredZerkow’soldhomebytheever-opendoor,andranup-stairstotheroom。Nobody。
“Why,isn’tthisFUNNY,“sheexclaimed,halfaloud,standingonthethreshold,herlittlemilk-whiteforeheadcurdlingtoafrown,onesorefingeronherlips。Thenagreatfearseizeduponher。Inevitablysheassociatedthehousewithasceneofviolentdeath。
“No,no,“shesaidtothedarkness,“Macisallright。
HEcantakecareofhimself。“Butforallthatshehadaclear-cutvisionofherhusband’sbody,bloatedwithsea-
water,hisblondhairstreaminglikekelp,rollinginertlyinshiftingwaters。
“Hecouldn’thavefallenofftherocks,“shedeclaredfirmly。“There——THEREheisnow。“Sheheavedagreatsighofreliefasaheavytreadsoundedinthehallwaybelow。Sherantothebanisters,lookingover,andcalling,“Oh,Mac!Isthatyou,Mac?“ItwastheGermanwhosefamilyoccupiedthelowerfloor。Thepower-houseclockstrucknine。
“MyGod,whereisMac?“criedTrina,stampingherfoot。
Sheputtheshawloverherheadagain,andwentoutandstoodonthecornerofthealleyandPolkStreet,watchingandwaiting,craninghernecktoseedownthestreet。Once,even,shewentoutuponthesidewalkinfrontoftheflatandsatdownforamomentuponthehorse-blockthere。Shecouldnothelprememberingthedaywhenshehadbeendrivenuptothathorse-blockinahack。HermotherandfatherandOwgoosteandthetwinswerewithher。Itwasherweddingday。Herweddingdresswasinahugetintrunkonthedriver’sseat。Shehadneverbeenhappierbeforeinallherlife。Sherememberedhowshegotoutofthehackandstoodforamomentuponthehorse-block,lookingupatMcTeague’swindows。Shehadcaughtaglimpseofhimathisshaving,thelatherstillonhischeek,andtheyhadwavedtheirhandsateachother。InstinctivelyTrinalookedupattheflatbehindher;lookedupatthebaywindowwhereherhusband’s“DentalParlors“hadbeen。Itwasalldark;thewindowshadtheblind,sightlessappearanceimpartedbyvacant,untenantedrooms。Arustyironrodprojectedmournfullyfromoneofthewindowledges。
“There’swhereoursignhungonce,“saidTrina。SheturnedherheadandlookeddownPolkStreettowardswheretheOtherDentisthadhisrooms,andthere,overhangingthestreetfromhiswindow,newlyfurbishedandbrightened,hungthehugetooth,herbirthdaypresenttoherhusband,flashingandglowinginthewhiteglareoftheelectriclightslikeabeaconofdefianceandtriumph。
“Ah,no;ah,no,“whisperedTrina,chokingbackasob。
“Lifeisn’tsogay。ButIwouldn’tmind,noIwouldn’tmindanything,ifonlyMacwashomeallright。“Shegotupfromthehorse-blockandstoodagainonthecornerofthealley,watchingandlistening。
Itgrewlater。Thehourspassed。Trinakeptatherpost。
Thenoiseofapproachingfootfallsgrewlessandlessfrequent。LittlebylittlePolkStreetdroppedbackintosolitude。Eleveno’clockstruckfromthepower-houseclock;
lightswereextinguished;atoneo’clockthecablestopped,leavinganabruptandnumbingsilenceintheair。Allatonceitseemedverystill。Theonlynoisesweretheoccasionalfootfallsofapolicemanandthepersistentcallingofducksandgeeseintheclosedmarketacrosstheway。Thestreetwasasleep。
Whenitisnightanddark,andoneisawakeandalone,one’sthoughtstakethecolorofthesurroundings;becomegloomy,sombre,andverydismal。AllatonceanideacametoTrina,adark,terribleidea;worse,even,thantheideaofMcTeague’sdeath。
“Oh,no,“shecried。“Oh,no。Itisn’ttrue。Butsuppose——suppose。“
Sheleftherpostandhurriedbacktothehouse。
“No,no,“shewassayingunderherbreath,“itisn’tpossible。Maybehe’sevencomehomealreadybyanotherway。
Butsuppose——suppose——suppose。“
Sheranupthestairs,openedthedooroftheroom,andpaused,outofbreath。Theroomwasdarkandempty。Withcold,tremblingfingersshelightedthelamp,and,turningabout,lookedathertrunk。Thelockwasburst。
“No,no,no,“criedTrina,“it’snottrue;it’snottrue。“
Shedroppedonherkneesbeforethetrunk,andtossedbackthelid,andplungedherhandsdownintothecornerunderneathherweddingdress,whereshealwayskeptthesavings。Thebrassmatch-safeandthechamois-skinbagwerethere。Theywereempty。
Trinaflungherselffulllengthuponthefloor,buryingherfaceinherarms,rollingherheadfromsidetoside。Hervoicerosetoawail。
“No,no,no,it’snottrue;it’snottrue;it’snottrue。
Oh,hecouldn’thavedoneit。Oh,howcouldhehavedoneit?Allmymoney,allmylittlesavings——anddesertedme。
He’sgone,mymoney’sgone,mydearmoney——mydear,deargoldpiecesthatI’veworkedsohardfor。Oh,tohavedesertedme——goneforgood——goneandnevercomingback——gonewithmygoldpieces。Gone-gone——gone。I’llneverseethemagain,andI’veworkedsohard,sosohardforhim——forthem。No,no,NO,it’snottrue。ItIStrue。Whatwillbecomeofmenow?Oh,ifyou’llonlycomebackyoucanhaveallthemoney——halfofit。Oh,givemebackmymoney。
Givemebackmymoney,andI’llforgiveyou。Youcanleavemethenifyouwantto。Oh,mymoney。Mac,Mac,you’vegoneforgood。Youdon’tlovemeanymore,andnowI’mabeggar。Mymoney’sgone,myhusband’sgone,gone,gone,gone!“