The talk wandered on, a monologue on Mary's part, that centered always on Bert Wanhope.
"That's what they all say, except Bert. He says he don't care what he does, he'll never get his, because when he dies he's dead, an' when he's dead he'd like to see any one put anything across on him that'd wake him up.
"There's Bert now," Saxon whispered, as they came around the second time.
Bert and Mary addressed each other by their given names, but to Saxon Bert was "Mr.
She glanced at Bert, dancing "tough" with Mary, caroming down the long floor with more than one collision with the increasing couples.
"Me for you, Saxon, for the next," was Bert's greeting, as they came up.
Mary regarded them with mock alarm, and Bert said good-naturedly:
"I suppose you'll want to sell out, Rose," Nellie's husband, Bert Mall, big and cordial as Peter had been before him, suggested a day or two after the funeral.
"There's a bunch going into this deal, together, Rose," Bert Mall explained.