At every moment his thought returned to Trina.
No, never was there such a little woman as his--the very thing he wanted--how had she remembered?
And the money, where had that come from?
No one knew better than he how expensive were these signs; not another dentist on Polk Street could afford one.

Where, then, had Trina found the money?
It came out of her five thousand dollars, no doubt.
But what a wonderful, beautiful tooth it was, to be sure, bright as a mirror, shining there in its coat of French gilt, as if with a light of its own! No danger of that tooth turning black with the weather, as did the cheap German gilt impostures.

What would that other dentist, that poser, that rider of bicycles, that courser of greyhounds, say when he should see this marvellous molar run out from McTeague's bay window like a flag of defiance?
No doubt he would suffer veritable convulsions of envy; would be positively sick with jealousy.

If McTeague could only see his face at the moment! For a whole hour the dentist sat there in his little "Parlor," gazing ecstatically at his treasure, dazzled, supremely content.

The whole room took on a different aspect because of it.