“There’s one up on Sacramento Street, not far from Polk Street.  I saw the sign.”

“I know where.  Why, Selina used to play the piano there.”

“Does she play the piano?”

“Oh, you ought to hear her.  She plays fine.  Selina’s very accomplished.  She paints, too.”

“I can play on the concertina.”

“Oh, can you?  I wish you’d brought it along.  Next time you will.  I hope you’ll come often on our picnics.  You’ll see what fun we’ll have.”

“Fine day for a picnic, ain’t it?  There ain’t a cloud.”

“That’s so,” exclaimed Trina, looking up, “not a single cloud.  Oh, yes; there is one, just over Telegraph Hill.”

“That’s smoke.”

“No, it’s a cloud.  Smoke isn’t white that way.”

“’Tis a cloud.”

“I knew I was right.  I never say a thing unless I’m pretty sure.”

“It looks like a dog’s head.”

“Don’t it?  Isn’t Marcus fond of dogs?”

“He got a new dog last week—­a setter.”

“Did he?”

“Yes.  He and I took a lot of dogs from his hospital out for a walk to the Cliff House last Sunday, but we had to walk all the way home, because they wouldn’t follow.  You’ve been out to the Cliff House?”

“Not for a long time.  We had a picnic there one Fourth of July, but it rained.  Don’t you love the ocean?”

“Yes—­yes, I like it pretty well.”

“Oh, I’d like to go off in one of those big sailing ships.  Just away, and away, and away, anywhere.  They’re different from a little yacht.  I’d love to travel.”

“Sure; so would I.”

“Papa and mamma came over in a sailing ship.  They were twenty-one days.  Mamma’s uncle used to be a sailor.  He was captain of a steamer on Lake Geneva, in Switzerland.”

“Halt!” shouted Mr. Sieppe, brandishing his rifle.  They had arrived at the gates of the park.  All at once McTeague turned cold.  He had only a quarter in his pocket.  What was he expected to do—­pay for the whole party, or for Trina and himself, or merely buy his own ticket?  And even in this latter case would a quarter be enough?  He lost his wits, rolling his eyes helplessly.  Then it occurred to him to feign a great abstraction, pretending not to know that the time was come to pay.  He looked intently up and down the tracks; perhaps a train was coming.  “Here we are,” cried Trina, as they came up to the rest of the party, crowded about the entrance.  “Yes, yes,” observed McTeague, his head in the air.

“Gi’ me four bits, Mac,” said Marcus, coming up.  “Here’s where we shell out.”

“I—­I—­I only got a quarter,” mumbled the dentist, miserably.  He felt that he had ruined himself forever with Trina.  What was the use of trying to win her?  Destiny was against him.  “I only got a quarter,” he stammered.  He was on the point of adding that he would not go in the park.  That seemed to be the only alternative.