“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！“