He was absolutely speechless. A wave of reminiscence had carried him back into the study, face to face with an accuser. He read meaning in Julia's words now, a meaning which at the time they had not possessed. It was true that he was being tempted. It was true that there was such a thing in the world as temptation, a live thing to the strong as well as to the weak.
"You could be great," she murmured. "You could be a statesman of whom we should all be proud. In years to come, people would understand, they would know that you had chosen the nobler part. And then for yourself—"
"For myself," he interrupted, "for myself—what?"
Her lips parted and closed again. She looked at him very steadily.
"Don't you think," she asked quietly, "that you are, more than most men, the builder of your own life, the master of your own fate, the conqueror—if, indeed, you desired to possess?"
She was gone, disappearing through a winding path amongst the bushes which he had never noticed. He heard the trailing of her skirts; the air around him was empty save for a breath of the perfume shaken from her gown, and the song of the bird. Then he heard her call to him.
"This way, Mr. Maraton—just a little to your left. The path leads right out on to the lawn."
"Is it a maze?" he asked.
"A very ordinary one," she called back gaily. "Follow me and I will lead you out."