"Here is Vera," said Geoffrey. "Let us ask her."
They put it to her merrily. They might have been in a world beyond all sorrow or suffering. The music of their fresh young voices floated in the air. Then Marion bent over the balustrade and watched the lovers out of sight. Her face grew hard; a veil of heavy years seemed to have fallen over it.
"If he only knew!" she said; "if he only knew! Why are clever people often so foolish? And why do they commit follies with their eyes wide open? Well, it doesn't matter, for you will never know, dear Geoffrey, how passionately and devotedly I love you. And you never, never know when temptation and inclination and opportunity go together. And I don't believe that anybody could resist temptation if he or she were certain not to be found out!"
"I am perfectly sure they wouldn't."
Marion turned with a stifled cry on her lips. Ralph Ravenspur was behind her. The expression on his face was wooden and emotionless.
"I hope you have not been listening to me," she said reproachfully.
"I have been watching you, or rather feeling your presence for some time." Ralph admitted. "I have been here since those young people went away. But you said nothing; at least nothing I heard until that bit of worldly wisdom dropped from your lips."
"It was an unworthy thought, Uncle Ralph."
"It might be unworthy of you, my dear, but I fancy it is true. Even the very best of people give way to temptation. Put it away from you; don't dwell upon your temptation, or it may get you into trouble."
"My temptation! Do you mean to say you know what it is?"