It was a pose which he often assumed, certain of impressing the dentist.
Marcus had picked up a few half-truths of political economy--it was impossible to say where--and as soon as the two had settled themselves to their beer in Frenna's back room he took up the theme of the labor question.

He discussed it at the top of his voice, vociferating, shaking his fists, exciting himself with his own noise.

He was continually making use of the stock phrases of the professional politician--phrases he had caught at some of the ward "rallies" and "ratification meetings." These rolled off his tongue with incredible emphasis, appearing at every turn of his conversation--"Outraged constituencies," "cause of labor," "wage earners," "opinions biased by personal interests," "eyes blinded by party prejudice." McTeague listened to him, awestruck.
"There's where the evil lies," Marcus would cry.

"The masses must learn self-control; it stands to reason.

Look at the figures, look at the figures.