Both Darrell and Walcott were marked men that night and attracted
universal attention and comment. Darrell's pale, intellectual face,
penetrating eyes, and dark hair already streaked with gray would have
attracted attention anywhere, as would also Walcott with his olive skin,
his cynical smile, and graceful, sinuous movement. In addition,
Darrell's peculiar mental condition and the fact that his identity was
enveloped in a degree of mystery rendered him doubly interesting. In the
case of each this was his introduction to the social life of Ophir. Each
had been a resident of the town, the one as a student and recluse, the
other as a business man, but each was a stranger to the stratum known as
society. Each held himself aloof that evening from the throng: the one,
through natural reserve, courteous but indifferent to the passing crowd;
the other alert, watchful, studying the crowd; weighing, gauging this
new element, speculating whether or not it were worth his while to court
its favor, whether or not he could make of it an ally for his own future
advantage.
Soon after his arrival Walcott had begged of Kate Underwood the honor of
a waltz, but her programme being then nearly filled she could only give
him one well towards the end. As he intended to render himself
conspicuous by dancing only once, and then with the belle of the
evening, it was at quite a late hour when he first made his appearance
on the floor. Kate was on his arm, and at that instant his criticism,
made earlier in the evening, that she was too colorless, certainly could
not have applied.
As he led her out upon the floor he bent his gaze upon her with a look
which brought the color swiftly to her face in crimson waves that
flooded the full, snow-white throat and, surging upward, reached even to
the blue-veined temples. Instinctively she shrank from him with a
sensation almost of fear, but something in his gaze held her as though
spell-bound. She looked into his eyes like one fascinated, scarcely
knowing what he said or what reply she made. The waltz began, and as
their fingers touched Kate's nerves tingled as though from an electric
shock. She shivered slightly, then, angry with herself, used every
exertion to overcome the strange spell. To a great extent she succeeded,
but she felt benumbed, as though moving in a dream or in obedience to
some will stronger than her own, while her temples throbbed painfully
and her respiration grew hurried and difficult. She grew dizzy, but
pride came to her rescue, and, except for the color which now ran riot
in her cheeks and a slight tremor through her frame, there was no hint
of her agitation. Her partner was all that could be desired, guiding her
through the circling crowds, and supporting her in the swift turns with
the utmost grace and courtesy, but it was a relief when it was over. At
her request, Walcott escorted her to a seat near her aunt, then
smilingly withdrew with much inward self-congratulation.