It was her wedding day.

Her wedding dress was in a huge tin trunk on the driver's seat.

She had never been happier before in all her life.

She remembered how she got out of the hack and stood for a moment upon the horse-block, looking up at McTeague's windows.

She had caught a glimpse of him at his shaving, the lather still on his cheek, and they had waved their hands at each other.
Instinctively Trina looked up at the flat behind her; looked up at the bay window where her husband's "Dental Parlors" had been.