Trina had prepared a little speech for him.
She was to tell him that she did not know what had been the matter with her that Wednesday afternoon; that she had acted like a bad girl; that she did not love him well enough to marry him; that she had told him as much once before.
McTeague saw her alone in the little front parlor.

The instant she appeared he came straight towards her.

She saw what he was bent upon doing.

"Wait a minute," she cried, putting out her hands.

"Wait.