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.