Two men came out of Frenna's saloon, laughing heartily.

Heise the harness-maker stood in the vestibule of his shop, a bundle of whittlings in his apron of greasy ticking.

And all this was going on, people were laughing and living, buying and selling, walking about out there on the sunny sidewalks, while behind her in there--in there--in there---- Heise started back from the sudden apparition of a white-lipped woman in a blue dressing-gown that seemed to rise up before him from his very doorstep.
"Well, Mrs.McTeague, you did scare me, for----" "Oh, come over here quick." Trina put her hand to her neck; swallowing something that seemed to be choking her.

"Maria's killed--Zerkow's wife--I found her." "Get out!" exclaimed Heise, "you're joking." "Come over here--over into the house--I found her--she's dead." Heise dashed across the street on the run, with Trina at his heels, a trail of spilled whittlings marking his course.

The two ran down the alley.