u honestly mean all that
blood-and-thunder?"

Mr. Mix smiled again, and hoped that his expression was taken to be
non-committal. To save his life, he couldn't have helped looking
towards the corner where Henry and Judge Barklay sat, and his fury and
chagrin were multiplied when he saw that they were still affected by
humour.

He went out, with vast dignity--even the doorman had a twinkle in his
eye--and made for Masonic Hall. Mirabelle was there, in the committee
room, and at sight of him, she had a temporary fit of maidenly
diffidence. He wanted to slap her; but he didn't even dare to use a
tone of voice which was more than disapproving.

"Those pamphlets--" he began, censoriously.

"Oh, yes, Theodore, I took the liberty of making a few slight
changes."

"Slight changes! Sleight of _hand_ changes!"

Mirabelle drew herself up. "Do you mean to say you criticise what I
did? _I_ couldn't see the sense of being milk-and-watery, even if
_you_ could. All I put in was what you've said to me a hundred times
over. We've wasted too much time already. I thought we'd better show
our true colours."

Mr. Mix stood and gaped at her. Underground politician that he was, he
knew that Mirabelle had utterly destroyed the half of his ambition.
She had made him a laughing-stock, a buffoon, a political joke. To
think that his name was connected with a crusade against short-skirts
and dancing--Ugh! Not even the average run of church-goers would
swallow it. "Mayor!" he thought bitterly. "President of Council! I
couldn't get elected second deputy assistant dog-catcher!"

Aloud, he said slowly: "I'm afraid it was premature, that's all."

"Oh, no, it wasn't! You've no _idea_ how people are talking about
it."

"Oh, yes, I have," said Mr. Mix, but he hadn't the temerity to put a
sarcastic stress on it. He was wondering whether, if he issued a
statement to assure the public that what was in those pamphlets was
pure idealism, and not to be taken as his outline of any immediate
campaign, he could remove at least the outer layer of the bad
impression, and save his amendment from the wreck. He had thought,
earlier, that he wouldn't need that amendment as a personal weapon
against Henry, but the value of it had appreciated by the possibility
of losing it. As to the state-wide law, Mr. Mix was totally
unconcerned. "Oh, yes, I have," he said.

"Don't get too conceited, though, Theodore. The _best_ part of it was
mine."

Mr. Mix's eagle eye