Mollie June ran to her.
"Oh, Aunt Mary!" she cried.
Merriam was afraid that Mollie June would burst into tears. Very possibly she would have liked to do so, but Aunt Mary gave her no opportunity.
"Lock the door, Mr. Rockwell," she said, putting an arm about Mollie June's waist. Her tone and manner were vigorous and dominant.
"Good evening, Mr. Black," she continued, while Rockwell hastened to obey her. And to Merriam: "Good evening, Mr.--Wilson. Now I think we had better all sit down and talk it over."
"I can't," said the Mayor. "I'm late for the Council meeting already. I've been shamefully tricked, Miss Norman."
"I think you have," returned Aunt Mary, releasing Mollie June and advancing a step or two into the room. "But that's the very reason why you need to consider your position at once. You're in a mess. So are we. Perhaps we can help each other out. The Council can wait. 'Phone them that you've been detained. They can go ahead, I suppose. Really, Mr. Black, I see a point or two in this business that I think will interest you."
Mayor Black met Mary Norman's direct, purposeful gaze. He was impressed by her air of command and intelligence. He recalled gossip to the effect that it was really she who ran George Norman's campaigns, that she even wrote some of his speeches.
"Very well," he said, "I'll stay ten minutes. Never mind 'phoning."
"Good," said Aunt Mary. "There are seats for all of us, I believe. Take that one, Mayor."