"It must be pleasant," said the Mayor, "to have such a nice young husband."
Mollie June stopped her work and looked at him in sudden alarm.
"What do you mean?" she said.
Rockwell stepped forward and caught her arm:
"Let me lead you into the next room, Mrs. Norman. You must let us talk with the Mayor."
"No!" she cried, snatching her arm away, and turning eyes of angry innocence on Mayor Black, "What do you mean?"
"I mean," he said, with smiling suavity--he was not to be daunted now, and, short of violence there was no way of stopping him,--"that you are a young woman. This gentleman--whose name I do not have the honour of knowing--is also young, and rather handsome. The Senator, of course, is getting old. I find you two alone in your husband's rooms, your husband having been tricked away. You can hardly expect me to believe that you mistook him for your husband. You display no dislike for his person. I draw my own conclusions. Every one in Chicago will draw the same conclusions if this interesting situation, quite worthy of Boccaccio, should become known. That's why I think"--he turned suddenly to Rockwell--"that you'd better give me the Ordinance after all."
Mollie June's cheeks were blazing. Merriam's also; he could not look at her. But Rockwell pulled his watch from his pocket.
"It is now two minutes past nine," he said. "The Ordinance has become law. You can have it now, Mr. Mayor." He held out the document.
The Mayor snatched it.