He and Heise had returned to Polk Street towards ten o'clock, and Heise at once suggested a couple of drinks at Frenna's.
"All right, all right," said McTeague.

"Drinks, that's the word.

I'll go home and get some money and meet you at Joe's." Trina was awakened by her husband pinching her arm.
"Oh, Mac," she cried, jumping up in bed with a little scream, "how you hurt! Oh, that hurt me dreadfully." "Give me a little money," answered the dentist, grinning, and pinching her again.
"I haven't a cent.

There's not a--oh, MAC, will you stop?
I won't have you pinch me that way." "Hurry up," answered her husband, calmly, nipping the flesh of her shoulder between his thumb and finger.

"Heise's waiting for me." Trina wrenched from him with a sharp intake of breath, frowning with pain, and caressing her shoulder.
"Mac, you've no idea how that hurts.