"Now, then, Maria," said Zerkow, his cracked, strained voice just rising above a whisper, hitching his chair closer to the table, "now, then, my girl, let's have it all over again.

Tell us about the gold plate--the service.

Begin with, 'There were over a hundred pieces and every one of them gold.'" "I don't know what you're talking about, Zerkow," answered Maria.

"There never was no gold plate, no gold service.

I guess you must have dreamed it." Maria and the red-headed Polish Jew had been married about a month after the McTeague's picnic which had ended in such lamentable fashion.