ed if I'm
blind.... Immodest little hussies. We'll have to tackle that question
next, Mirabelle."

The train eased to a standstill: he helped her down to the platform.
The big car was waiting for them: and as the door slammed, Mr. Mix
sat back luxuriously, and beamed at the chauffeur. Yes, virtue had its
compensations; and as soon as he had money to his own credit, he would
figuratively take Mirabelle by the scruff of the neck, and he would
tell her just exactly how to behave, and he would see that she did it.
But for the present--soft diplomacy.

Mirabelle clamped his arm. "Why, what's that policeman stopping us
for, right in the middle of a block!"

"Search _me_...." He opened the door, and he leaned out, imperially.
"What's wrong, officer? We weren't going over twelve or thirteen--"

The policeman, who had brought out a thick book of blank summonses,
and an indelible pencil, motioned him to desist. "What name?"

Mr. Mix swelled, pompously. "But, officer, I--"

"Cut it out. Name?"

"Theodore Mix. But--"

"Address?"

Mr. Mix gave it, but before he could add a postscript, Mirabelle was
on active duty. "Officer, we've got a perfect right to know what all
this fol-de-rol is about. I'm the president of the Ethical Reform
League." She flirted her badge at him. "I'm Mrs. Theodore Mix--used to
be Miss Starkweather. My husband is a personal friend of Mayor
Rowland, and the Chief of Police. I demand to know the reason for this
insult!"

The policeman tore off a page at the perforation, and handed it to Mr.
Mix. "Judge Barklay's Court, Tuesday, 10 A.M.... Why, you're violatin'
City Ordinance 147."

Mirabelle turned red. "Now you see here, young man, I know that
ordinance backwards and forwards! I--"

"Try it sideways," said the unabashed policeman. "Ordinance says
nobody can't engage in no diversion on the Lord's Day. That's today,
and this here limousine's a diversion, ain't it?"

Mr. Mix cried out in anguish, as her grip tightened. "Ouch! It's a
damned outrage! Leggo my arm."

"No, it isn't! Oh, Theodore, don't you see what it _means_--"

"Leggo, Mirabelle! It's a damned outrage!"

"No, it isn't either! Theodore, don't you _see_? The Mayor's
weakened--they probably read your speech at Chicago--they aren't
_waiting_ for the amendment! They're enforcing the ordinance--better
than we ever dreamed of! And that means that you're going to the City
Hall next autumn!" She leaned out and bowed to the gaping office