ve cents for car fare. He started to walk home through the rain. It
was a long way to Polk Street, as the last manufactory he had visited
was beyond even Folsom Street, and not far from the city front.

By the time McTeague reached Polk Street his teeth were chattering
with the cold. He was wet from head to foot. As he was passing Heise's
harness shop a sudden deluge of rain overtook him and he was obliged to
dodge into the vestibule for shelter. He, who loved to be warm, to
sleep and to be well fed, was icy cold, was exhausted and footsore
from tramping the city. He could look forward to nothing better than a
badly-cooked supper at the coffee-joint--hot meat on a cold plate,
half done suet pudding, muddy coffee, and bad bread, and he was cold,
miserably cold, and wet to the bone. All at once a sudden rage against
Trina took possession of him. It was her fault. She knew it was going
to rain, and she had not let him have a nickel for car fare--she who had
five thousand dollars. She let him walk the streets in the cold and in
the rain. "Miser," he growled behind his mustache. "Miser, nasty little
old miser. You're worse than old Zerkow, always nagging about money,
money, and you got five thousand dollars. You got more, an' you live
in that stinking hole of a room, and you won't drink any decent beer. I
ain't going to stand it much longer. She knew it was going to rain. She
KNEW it. Didn't I TELL her? And she drives me out of my own home in the
rain, for me to get money for her; more money, and she takes it. She
took that money from me that I earned. 'Twasn't hers; it was mine, I
earned it--and not a nickel for car fare. She don't care if I get wet
and get a cold and DIE. No, she don't, as long as she's warm and's got
her money." He became more and more indignant at the picture he made of
himself. "I ain't going to stand it much longer," he repeated.

"Why, hello, Doc. Is that you?" exclaimed Heise, opening the door of
the harness shop behind him. "Come in out of the wet. Why, you're soaked
through," he added as he and McTeague came back into the shop, that
reeked of oiled leather. "Didn't you have any umbrella? Ought to have
taken a car."

"I guess so--I guess so," murmured the dentist, confused. His teeth were
chattering.

"YOU'RE going to catch your death-a-cold," exclaimed Heise. "Tell you
what," he said, reaching for his hat, "come in next door to Frenna's and
have something to warm you up. I'll get the old lady to