The dental engine and the nickelled trimmings of the operating chair had been furbished till they shone, while on the movable rack in the bay window McTeague had arranged his instruments with the greatest neatness and regularity.

"Hoe" excavators, pluggers, forceps, pliers, corundum disks and burrs, even the boxwood mallet that Trina was never to use again, all were laid out and ready for immediate use.
McTeague himself sat in his operating chair, looking stupidly out of the windows, across the roofs opposite, with an unseeing gaze, his red hands lying idly in his lap.

Trina came up to him.

There was something in his eyes that made her put both arms around his neck and lay his huge head with its coarse blond hair upon her shoulder.
"I--I got everything fixed," he said.

"I got everything fixed an' ready.
See, everything ready an' waiting, an'-- an'-- an' nobody comes, an' nobody's ever going to come any more.