“Then you don’t love the girl?”

“I?”

“Either way, my hands are cleared of the worry.  If you want her, let me take Landis.  If you don’t want her, what difference does it make to you except silly sentiment?”

Donnegan made no answer.

“If she comes to Lebrun’s house, I’ll see that Nell doesn’t bother him too much.”

“Can you control her?  If she wants to see this fool can you keep her away, and if she goes to him can you control her smiling?”

“Certainly,” said Lord Nick, but he flushed heavily.

Donnegan smiled.

“She’s a devil of a girl,” admitted Henry Reardon.  “But this is beside the point:  which is, that you’re sticking on a matter that means everything to me, and which is only a secondhand interest to you—­a point of sentiment.  You pity the girl.  What’s pity?  Bah!  I pity a dog in the street, but would I cross you, Garry, lad, to save the dog?  Sentiment, I say, silly sentiment.”

Donnegan rose.

“It was a silly sentiment,” he said hoarsely, “that put me on the road following you, Henry.  It was a silly sentiment that turned me into a wastrel, a wanderer, a man without a home and without friends.”

“It’s wrong to throw that in my face,” muttered Lord Nick.

“It is.  And I’m sorry for it.  But I want you to see that matters of sentiment may be matters of life and death with me.”

“Aye, if it were for you it would be different.  I might see my way clear—­but for a girl you have only a distant interest in—­”

“It is a matter of whether or not her heart shall be broken.”

“Come, come.  Let’s talk man talk.  Besides, girls’ hearts don’t break in this country.  You’re old-fashioned.”

“I tell you the question of her happiness is worth more than a dozen lives like yours and mine.”

There had been a gathering impatience in Lord Nick.  Now he, also, leaped to his feet; a giant.

“Tell me in one word:  You stick on this point?”

“In one word—­yes!”

“Then you deny me, Garry.  You set me aside for a silly purpose of your own—­a matter that really doesn’t mean much to you.  It shows me where I stand in your eyes—­and nothing between the devil and the moon shall make me sidestep!”

They remained silent, staring at each other.  Lord Nick stood with a flush of anger growing; Donnegan became whiter than ever, and he stiffened himself to his full height, which, in all who knew him well, was the danger signal.

“You take Landis?” he said softly.

“I do.”

“Not,” said Donnegan, “while I live!”

“You mean—­” cried Lord Nick.

“I mean it!”

They had been swept back to the point at which that strangest of scenes began, but this time there was an added element—­horror.

“You’d fight?”

“To the death, Henry!”

“Garry, if one of us should kill the other, he’d be cursed forever!”