“Tuesday by ten o’clock in the morning.”
His face cleared, “You’ve shared a secret with me,” said Mr. Mix, and although he spoke aloud, his attitude was as though he were whispering. “Because I happen to know that every Tuesday at ten o’clock there’s a meeting of a––a certain organization of which you’re the illustrious president. Needless to say, I refer to the Ethical Reform League.” He lowered his voice. “I ask your pardon for the intrusion of anything of such a delicately personal nature, Miss Starkweather, but I must tell you that when a person, such as yourself, even in the midst of inconsolable sorrow, can’t forget that great principles and great institutions can never perish, but are immortal, and go on forever––that’s true nobility of character, Miss Starkweather, and I honour you for it.”
She touched her eyes with her handkerchief. 71 “Thank you, Mr. Mix. Yes, I intend to make a contribution to our League––in memory of my brother. You’re––familiar with our League?”
He gestured effectively. “Familiar with it? You might as well ask me if I’m familiar with the Emancipation Proclamation––the Magna Charta.” And this was accurate; his knowledge of all three was based on hearsay evidence.
“And are you at all in sympathy with it?”
“My dear lady! I was one of the pioneer supporters of suffrage in this region. I––”
“Yes, I know that, and I know your work in the Associated Charities, and in your church, but––how did you vote on prohibition?”
He side-stepped with great agility. “How would any man of my calibre vote?”
“True, true.” She was becoming animated.
“But we’ve tremendous problems yet to solve.... Do you believe in enforcing the laws, Mr. Mix? The Sunday laws especially?”