ined him, and
then he knew it had been the singing of Lou from first to last which had
kept the murder out of his own heart and restrained the hand of Lord
Nick.

Perhaps of all Donnegan's life, this was the first moment of true
humility.

43

One thing was now clear. He must not remain in The Corner unless he was
prepared for Lord Nick again: and in a third meeting guns must be drawn.
From that greater sin he shrank, and prepared to leave. His order to
George made the big man's eyes widen, but George had long since passed
the point where he cared to question the decision of his master. He
began to build the packs.

As for Donnegan, he could see that there was little to be won by
remaining. That would save Landis to Lou Macon, to be sure, but after
all, he was beginning to wonder if it were not better to let the big
fellow go back to his own kind--Lebrun and the rest. For if it needed
compulsion to keep him with Lou now, might it not be the same story
hereafter?

Indeed, Donnegan began to feel that all his labor in The Corner had been
running on a treadmill. It had all been grouped about the main purpose,
which was to keep Landis with the girl. To do that now he must be
prepared to face Nick again; and to face Nick meant the bringing of the
guilt of fratricide upon the head of one of them. There only remained
flight. He saw at last that he had been fighting blindly from the
first. He had won a girl whom he did not love--though doubtless her
liking was only the most fickle fancy. And she for whom he would have
died he had taught to hate him. It was a grim summing up. Donnegan
walked the room whistling softly to himself as he checked up his
accounts.

One thing at least he had done; he had taken the joy out of his life
forever.

And here, answering a rap at the door, he opened it upon Lou Macon. She
wore a dress of some very soft material. It was a pale blue--faded, no
doubt--but the color blended exquisitely with her hair and with the
flush of her face. It came to Donnegan that it was an unnecessary
cruelty of chance that made him see the girl lovelier than he had ever
seen her before at the very moment when he was surrendering the last
shadow of a claim upon her.

And it hurt him, also, to see the freshness of her face, the clear eyes;
and to hear her smooth, untroubled voice. She had lived untouched by
anything save the sunshine in The Corner.

Her glance flicked across his face and then fluttered