supper. We're just goin' to take all your good wishes to heart,
we wish you the same back, and when we say it we mean more than
you think we mean. Saxon an' I believe in tit for tat. So we're
wishin' for the day when the table is turned clear around an'
we're sittin' as guests at your weddin' supper. And then, when
you come to Sunday dinner, you can both stop Saturday night in
the spare bedroom. I guess I was wised up when I furnished it,
eh?"

"I never thought it of you, Billy!" Mary exclaimed. "You're every
hit as raw as Bert. But just the same . . ."

There was a rush of moisture to her eyes. Her voice faltered and
broke. She smiled through her tears at them, then turned to look
at Bert, who put his arm around her and gathered her on to his
knees.

When they left the restaurant, the four walked to Eighth and
Broadway, where they stopped beside the electric car. Bert and
Billy were awkward and silent, oppressed by a strange aloofness.
But Mary embraced Saxon with fond anxiousness.

"It's all right, dear," Mary whispered. "Don't be scared. It's
all right. Think of all the other women in the world."

The conductor clanged the gong, and the two couples separated in
a sudden hubbub of farewell.

"Oh, you Mohegan!" Bert called after, as the car got under way.
"Oh, you Minnehaha!"