"That big tooth of French gilt--YOU know--that you made an offer for once." "Oh, I don't want that now," said the other loftily.

"I prefer a little quiet signboard, nothing pretentious--just the name, and 'Dentist' after it.

These big signs are vulgar.

No, I don't want it." McTeague remained, looking about on the floor, horribly embarrassed, not knowing whether to go or to stay.
"But I don't know," said the Other Dentist, reflectively.

"If it will help you out any--I guess you're pretty hard up--I'll--well, I tell you what--I'll give you five dollars for it." "All right, all right." On the following Thursday morning McTeague woke to hear the eaves dripping and the prolonged rattle of the rain upon the roof.
"Raining," he growled, in deep disgust, sitting up in bed, and winking at the blurred window.
"It's been raining all night," said Trina.