I WILL give him some.

I'll send it to him to-morrow.

Where ?--well, he'll come back." She leaned from the window and called as loudly as she dared, "Mac, oh, Mac." There was no answer.
When McTeague had told Trina he had been without food for nearly two days he was speaking the truth.

The week before he had spent the last of the four hundred dollars in the bar of a sailor's lodging-house near the water front, and since that time had lived a veritable hand-to-mouth existence.
He had spent her money here and there about the city in royal fashion, absolutely reckless of the morrow, feasting and drinking for the most part with companions he picked up heaven knows where, acquaintances of twenty-four hours, whose names he forgot in two days.

Then suddenly he found himself at the end of his money.