"Claude sided with the strait-laced party, too," she reminded Mazie.
"Oh, well," said Claude, flushing slightly, "I'm really quite glad that the minority lost. To tell the truth, what I chiefly objected to was Hutchins Hurley's cockiness. Personally I prefer a masked ball. I haven't got Robert's interest in backing the radicals or keeping their reputation spotless. Let's risk it, I say. It's a case of nothing venture, nothing have, isn't it?"
"So Robert was the real leader of the rumpus all the time," said Cornelia, sweetly. "I thought so. Still, I'm free to say that I admire his courage in defying 'Big Burley.' Especially when I think how afraid of Hutch all the Outlaws are."
Claude rose to his full stature and walked to the head of the couch where he stood, handsome and commanding.
"Am I afraid of him?" he asked, amused.
"Well, you generally agree with him, Lothario."
He received this jab with a smile. He supposed Cornelia to be speaking only of bodily fear, and as his physical courage and strength were unusual, the shaft glanced off.
"I mean," said Cornelia, "that, like Big Burley, you are an anarchist at heart, only not such a wicked one. You work within the law, he works without."
Claude was preparing a vigorous assault on any theory that placed Burley and himself in the same class, when a ring at the outer door took the opportunity away.
CHAPTER TWO