He saw the men who had no girl with them brighten at the announcement of the tag dance.  And when the dance began he saw the prettiest girls tagged quickly, one after the other.  All except Nelly Lebrun.  She swung securely around the circle in the big arms of Jack Landis.  She seemed to be set apart and protected from the common touch by his size, and by his formidable, challenging eye.  Donnegan felt as never before the unassailable position of this fellow; not only from his own fighting qualities, but because he had behind him the whole unfathomable power of Lord Nick and his gang.

Nelly approached in the arms of Landis in making the first circle of the dance floor; her eyes, grown dull as she surrendered herself wholly to the rhythm of the waltz, saw nothing.  They were blank as unlighted charcoal.  She came opposite Donnegan, her back was toward him; she swung in the arms of Landis, and then, past the shoulder of her partner, she flashed a glance at Donnegan.  The spark had fallen on the charcoal, and her eyes were aflame.  Aflame to Donnegan; the next instant the veil had dropped across her face once more.

She was carried on, leaving Donnegan tingling.

A wise man upon whom that look had fallen might have seen, not Nelly Lebrun in the cheap dance hall, but Helen of Sparta and all Troy’s dead.  But Donnegan was clever, not wise.  And he saw only Nelly Lebrun and the broad shoulders of Jack Landis.

Let the critic deal gently with Donnegan.  He loved Lou Macon with all his heart and his soul, and yet because another beautiful girl had looked at him, there he sat at his table with his jaw set and the devil in his eye.  And while she and Landis were whirling through the next circumference of the room, Donnegan was seeing all sides of the problem.  If he tagged Landis it would be casting the glove in the face of the big man—­and in the face of old Lebrun—­and in the face of that mysterious and evil power, Lord Nick himself.  And consider, that besides these he had already insulted all of The Corner.

Why not let things go on as they were?  Suppose he were to allow Landis to plunge deeper into his infatuation?  Suppose he were to bring Lou Macon to this place and let her see Landis sitting with Nelly, making love to her with every tone in his voice, every light in his eye?  Would not that cure Lou?  And would not that open the door to Donnegan?

And remember, in considering how Donnegan was tempted, that he was not a conscientious man.  He was in fact what he seemed to be—­a wanderer, a careless vagrant, living by his wits.  For all this, he had been touched by the divine fire—­a love that is greater than self.  And the more deeply he hated Landis, the more profoundly he determined that he should be discarded by Nelly and forced back to Lou Macon.  In the meantime, Nelly and Jack were coming again.  They were close; they were passing; and this time her eye had no spark for Donnegan.