Not such a bad capital , Lovell , not such a bad capital . '' A Redeeming Sacrifice The dance at Byron Lyall 's was in full swing . Toff Leclerc , the best fiddler in three counties , was enthroned on the kitchen table and from the glossy brown violin , which his grandfather brought from Grand Pré , was conjuring music which made even stiff old Aunt Phemy want to show her steps . Around the kitchen sat a row of young men and women , and the open sitting-room doorway was crowded with the faces of non-dancing guests who wanted to watch the sets . An eight-hand reel had just been danced and the girls , giddy from the much swinging of the final figure , had been led back to their seats . Mattie Lyall came out with a dipper of water and sprinkled the floor , from which a fine dust was rising . Toff 's violin purred under his hands as he waited for the next set to form . The dancers were slow about it . There was not the rush for the floor that there had been earlier in the evening , for the supper table was now spread in the dining-room and most of the guests were hungry . `` Fill up dere , boys , '' shouted the fiddler impatiently . `` Bring out your gals for de nex ' set . '' After a moment Paul King led out Joan Shelley from the shadowy corner where they had been sitting . They had already danced several sets together ; Joan had not danced with anybody else that evening . As they stood together under the light from the lamp on the shelf above them , many curious and disapproving eyes watched them . Connor Mitchell , who had been standing in the open outer doorway with the moonlight behind him , turned abruptly on his heel and went out . Paul King leaned his head against the wall and watched the watchers with a smiling , defiant face as they waited for the set to form . He was a handsome fellow , with the easy , winning ways that women love . His hair curled in bronze masses about his head ; his dark eyes were long and drowsy and laughing ; there was a swarthy bloom on his round cheeks ; and his lips were as red and beguiling as a girl 's . A bad egg was Paul King , with a bad past and a bad future . He was shiftless and drunken ; ugly tales were told of him .
Not a man XXXXX Lyall 's house that night but grudged him the privilege of standing up with Joan Shelley .
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