Heturnedtohiswork，asifseekingarefugeinit。Butashedrewneartoheragain，thecharmofherinnocenceandhelplessnesscameoverhimafresh。Itwasafinalprotestagainsthisresolution。Suddenlyheleanedoverandkissedher，grossly，fullonthemouth。Thethingwasdonebeforeheknewit。Terrifiedathisweaknessattheverymomenthebelievedhimselfstrong，hethrewhimselfoncemoreintohisworkwithdesperateenergy。Bythetimehewasfasteningthesheetofrubberuponthetooth，hehadhimselfoncemoreinhand。Hewasdisturbed，stilltrembling，stillvibratingwiththethroesofthecrisis，buthewasthemaster；theanimalwasdowned，wascowedforthistime，atleast。
Butforallthat，thebrutewasthere。Longdormant，itwasnowatlastalive，awake。Fromnowonhewouldfeelitspresencecontinually；wouldfeelittuggingatitschain，watchingitsopportunity。Ah，thepityofit！Whycouldhenotalwaysloveherpurely，cleanly？Whatwasthisperverse，viciousthingthatlivedwithinhim，knittedtohisflesh？
Belowthefinefabricofallthatwasgoodinhimranthefoulstreamofhereditaryevil，likeasewer。Thevicesandsinsofhisfatherandofhisfather’sfather，tothethirdandfourthandfivehundredthgeneration，taintedhim。
Theevilofanentireraceflowedinhisveins。Whyshoulditbe？Hedidnotdesireit。Washetoblame？
ButMcTeaguecouldnotunderstandthisthing。Ithadfacedhim，assoonerorlateritfaceseverychildofman；butitssignificancewasnotforhim。Toreasonwithitwasbeyondhim。Hecouldonlyopposetoitaninstinctivestubbornresistance，blind，inert。
McTeaguewentonwithhiswork。Ashewasrappinginthelittleblocksandcylinderswiththemallet，Trinaslowlycamebacktoherselfwithalongsigh。Shestillfeltalittleconfused，andlayquietinthechair。Therewasalongsilence，brokenonlybytheuneventappingofthehardwoodmallet。Byandbyshesaid，“Ineverfeltathing，“andthenshesmiledathimveryprettilybeneaththerubberdam。McTeagueturnedtohersuddenly，hismalletinonehand，hispliersholdingapelletofsponge-goldintheother。Allatoncehesaid，withtheunreasonedsimplicityanddirectnessofachild：“Listenhere，MissTrina，Ilikeyoubetterthananyoneelse；what’sthematterwithusgettingmarried？“
Trinasatupinthechairquickly，andthendrewbackfromhim，frightenedandbewildered。
“Willyou？Willyou？“saidMcTeague。“Say，MissTrina，willyou？“
“Whatisit？Whatdoyoumean？“shecried，confusedly，herwordsmuffledbeneaththerubber。
“Willyou？“repeatedMcTeague。
“No，no，“sheexclaimed，refusingwithoutknowingwhy，suddenlyseizedwithafearofhim，theintuitivefemininefearofthemale。McTeaguecouldonlyrepeatthesamethingoverandoveragain。Trina，moreandmorefrightenedathishugehands——thehandsoftheold-timecar-boy——hisimmensesquare-cutheadandhisenormousbrutestrength，criedout：
“No，no，“behindtherubberdam，shakingherheadviolently，holdingoutherhands，andshrinkingdownbeforehimintheoperatingchair。McTeaguecamenearertoher，repeatingthesamequestion。“No，no，“shecried，terrified。Then，assheexclaimed，“Oh，Iamsick，“wassuddenlytakenwithafitofvomiting。Itwasthenotunusualaftereffectoftheether，aidednowbyherexcitementandnervousness。
McTeaguewaschecked。Hepouredsomebromideofpotassiumintoagraduatedglassandheldittoherlips。
“Here，swallowthis，“hesaid。
CHAPTER3
OnceeverytwomonthsMariaMacapasettheentireflatincommotion。Sheroamedthebuildingfromgarrettocellar，searchingeachcorner，ferretingthrougheveryoldboxandtrunkandbarrel，gropingaboutonthetopshelvesofclosets，peeringintorag-bags，exasperatingthelodgerswithherpersistenceandimportunity。Shewascollectingjunks，bitsofiron，stonejugs，glassbottles，oldsacks，andcast-offgarments。Itwasoneofherperquisites。ShesoldthejunktoZerkow，therags-bottles-sacksman，wholivedinafilthydeninthealleyjustbackoftheflat，andwhosometimespaidherasmuchasthreecentsapound。
Thestonejugs，however，wereworthanickel。ThemoneythatZerkowpaidher，Mariaspentonshirtwaistsanddottedblueneckties，tryingtodresslikethegirlswhotendedthesoda-waterfountaininthecandystoreonthecorner。Shewassickwithenvyoftheseyoungwomen。Theywereintheworld，theywereelegant，theyweredebonair，theyhadtheir“youngmen。“
OnthisoccasionshepresentedherselfatthedoorofOldGrannis’sroomlateintheafternoon。Hisdoorstoodalittleopen。ThatofMissBakerwasajarafewinches。Thetwooldpeoplewere“keepingcompany“aftertheirfashion。
“Gotanyjunk，MisterGrannis？“inquiredMaria，standinginthedoor，averydirty，half-filledpillowcaseoveronearm。
“No，nothing——nothingthatIcanthinkof，Maria，“repliedOldGrannis，terriblyvexedattheinterruption，yetnotwishingtobeunkind。“NothingIthinkof。Yet，however——
perhaps——ifyouwishtolook。“
Hesatinthemiddleoftheroombeforeasmallpinetable。
Hislittlebindingapparatuswasbeforehim。Inhisfingerswasahugeupholsterer’sneedlethreadedwithtwine，abrad-
awllayathiselbow，onthefloorbesidehimwasagreatpileofpamphlets，thepagesuncut。OldGrannisboughtthe“Nation“andthe“BreederandSportsman。“Inthelatterheoccasionallyfoundarticlesondogswhichinterestedhim。
Theformerheseldomread。Hecouldnotaffordtosubscriberegularlytoeitherofthepublications，butpurchasedtheirbacknumbersbythescore，almostsolelyforthepleasurehetookinbindingthem。
“Whatyoualussewingupthembooksfor，MisterGrannis？“
askedMaria，asshebeganrummagingaboutinOldGrannis’sclosetshelves。“There’sjusthundredsof’eminhereonyershelves；theyain’tnogoodtoyou。“
“Well，well，“answeredOldGrannis，timidly，rubbinghischin，“I——I’msureIcan’tquitesay；alittlehabit，youknow；adiversion，a——a——itoccupiesone，youknow。Idon’tsmoke；ittakestheplaceofapipe，perhaps。“
“Here’sthisoldyellowpitcher，“saidMaria，comingoutoftheclosetwithitinherhand。“Thehandle’scracked；youdon’twantit；bettergivemeit。“
OldGrannisdidwantthepitcher；true，heneveruseditnow，buthehadkeptitalongtime，andsomehowheheldtoitasoldpeopleholdtotrivial，worthlessthingsthattheyhavehadformanyyears。
“Oh，thatpitcher——well，Maria，I——Idon’tknow。I’mafraid——yousee，thatpitcher——“
“Ah，go’long，“interruptedMariaMacapa，“what’sthegoodofit？“
“Ifyouinsist，Maria，butIwouldmuchrather——“herubbedhischin，perplexedandannoyed，hatingtorefuse，andwishingthatMariaweregone。
“Why，what’sthegoodofit？“persistedMaria。Hecouldgivenosufficientanswer。“That’sallright，“sheasserted，carryingthepitcherout。
“Ah——Maria——Isay，you——youmightleavethedoor——ah，don’tquiteshutit——it’sabitcloseinhereattimes。“Mariagrinned，andswungthedoorwide。OldGranniswashorriblyembarrassed；positively，Mariawasbecomingunbearable。
“Gotanyjunk？“criedMariaatMissBaker’sdoor。Thelittleoldladywassittingclosetothewallinherrocking-chair；herhandsrestingidlyinherlap。
“Now，Maria，“shesaidplaintively，“youarealwaysafterjunk；youknowIneverhaveanythinglaying’roundlikethat。“
Itwastrue。Theretireddressmaker’stinyroomwasamarvelofneatness，fromthelittleredtable，withitsthreeGorhamspoonslaidinexactparallels，tothedecorousgeraniumsandmignonettesgrowinginthestarchboxatthewindow，underneaththefishglobewithitsonevenerablegoldfish。ThatdayMissBakerhadbeendoingabitofwashing；twopockethandkerchiefs，stillmoist，adheredtothewindowpanes，dryinginthesun。
“Oh，Iguessyougotsomethingyoudon’twant，“Mariawenton，peeringintothecornersoftheroom。“Look-a-herewhatMisterGrannisgi’me，“andsheheldouttheyellowpitcher。
InstantlyMissBakerwasinaquiverofconfusion。Everywordspokenaloudcouldbeperfectlyheardinthenextroom。
WhatastupiddrabwasthisMaria！Couldanythingbemoretryingthanthisposition？
“Ain’tthatright，MisterGrannis？“calledMaria；“didn’tyougi’methispitcher？“OldGrannisaffectednottohear；
perspirationstoodonhisforehead；histimidityovercamehimasifhewereaten-year-oldschoolboy。Hehalfrosefromhischair，hisfingersdancingnervouslyuponhischin。
MariaopenedMissBaker’sclosetunconcernedly。“What’sthematterwiththeseoldshoes？“sheexclaimed，turningaboutwithapairofhalf-wornsilkgaitersinherhand。Theywerebynomeansoldenoughtothrowaway，butMissBakerwasalmostbesideherself。Therewasnotellingwhatmighthappennext。HeronlythoughtwastoberidofMaria。
“Yes，yes，anything。Youcanhavethem；butgo，go。There’snothingelse，notathing。“
Mariawentoutintothehall，leavingMissBaker’sdoorwideopen，asifmaliciously。Shehadleftthedirtypillow-caseonthefloorinthehall，andshestoodoutside，betweenthetwoopendoors，stowingawaytheoldpitcherandthehalf-
wornsilkshoes。Shemaderemarksatthetopofhervoice，callingnowtoMissBaker，nowtoOldGrannis。Inawayshebroughtthetwooldpeoplefacetoface。Eachtimetheywereforcedtoanswerherquestionsitwasasiftheyweretalkingdirectlytoeachother。
“Theseherearefirst-rateshoes，MissBaker。Lookhere，MisterGrannis，getontotheshoesMissBakergi’me。Youain’tgotapairyoudon’twant，haveyou？Youtwopeoplehavelessjunkthananyoneelseintheflat。Howdoyoumanage，MisterGrannis？Youoldbachelorsarejustlikeoldmaids，justasneataspins。Youtwoarejustalike——youandMisterGrannis——ain’tyou，MissBaker？“