lious gesture.

"There's four seats on the right-hand side, then, and you're right up
against the drums."

"But I don't want to be near the drums," protested McTeague, beginning
to perspire.

"Do you know what you want at all?" said the ticket seller with
calmness, thrusting his head at McTeague. The dentist knew that he had
hurt this young man's feelings.

"I want--I want," he stammered. The seller slammed down a plan of the
house in front of him and began to explain excitedly. It was the one
thing lacking to complete McTeague's confusion.

"There are your seats," finished the seller, shoving the tickets into
McTeague's hands. "They are the fourth row from the front, and away from
the drums. Now are you satisfied?"

"Are they on the right-hand side? I want on the right--no, I want on the
left. I want--I don' know, I don' know."

The seller roared. McTeague moved slowly away, gazing stupidly at the
blue slips of pasteboard. Two girls took his place at the wicket. In
another moment McTeague came back, peering over the girls' shoulders and
calling to the seller:

"Are these for Monday night?"

The other disdained reply. McTeague retreated again timidly, thrusting
the tickets into his immense wallet. For a moment he stood thoughtful
on the steps of the entrance. Then all at once he became enraged, he
did not know exactly why; somehow he felt himself slighted. Once more he
came back to the wicket.

"You can't make small of me," he shouted over the girls' shoulders;
"you--you can't make small of me. I'll thump you in the head, you
little--you little--you little--little--little pup." The ticket seller
shrugged his shoulders wearily. "A dollar and a half," he said to the
two girls.

McTeague glared at him and breathed loudly. Finally he decided to let
the matter drop. He moved away, but on the steps was once more seized
with a sense of injury and outraged dignity.

"You can't make small of me," he called back a last time, wagging his
head and shaking his fist. "I will--I will--I will--yes, I will." He
went off muttering.

At last Monday night came. McTeague met the Sieppes at the ferry,
dressed in a black Prince Albert coat and his best slate-blue trousers,
and wearing the made-up lawn necktie that Marcus had selected for him.
Trina was very pretty in the black dress that McTeague knew so well.
She wore a pair of new gloves. Mrs. Sieppe had on lisle-thread mits, and
carried two bananas and an orange in a net