I don't think we can afford it, Mac." "Ah, pshaw!" growled the dentist, "sure we can." "It isn't only that," said Trina, "but it'll cost so much to make the change." "Ah, you talk's though we were paupers.

Ain't we got five thousand dollars ?" Trina flushed on the instant, even to the lobes of her tiny pale ears, and put her lips together.
"Now, Mac, you know I don't want you should talk like that.

That money's never, never to be touched." "And you've been savun up a good deal, besides," went on McTeague, exasperated at Trina's persistent economies.

"How much money have you got in that little brass match-safe in the bottom of your trunk?
Pretty near a hundred dollars, I guess--ah, sure." He shut his eyes and nodded his great head in a knowing way.
Trina had more than that in the brass match-safe in question, but her instinct of hoarding had led her to keep it a secret from her husband.
Now she lied to him with prompt fluency.
"A hundred dollars! What are you talking of, Mac?
I've not got fifty.
I've not got THIRTY." "Oh, let's take that little house," broke in McTeague.

"We got the chance now, and it may never come again.