"Could I do otherwise?" she rejoined. "It is a most unhappy business altogether: and at times I am tempted to wish that it had been always kept from me. As you say--and I am willing to believe you, and do believe you--the past is past: but you know how much of the consequences remain. It seems to me that I must give way a little: perhaps, having taken my vows as your wife, it may be what I ought to do; a duty even in God's sight." "Do you recollect your words to me on the eve of our wedding-day, Lucy, when I was speaking of the possibility that a deeper blow might fall: one that would dishonour us both in the world's eyes, myself primarily, you through me, and cause you to repent of our union? You should never repent, you said; you took me for richer for poorer, for better or for worse." "But I did not know the blow would be of this kind," murmured Lucy. "Still, I will do as you wish me--forget and forgive. At least if I cannot literally forget, for that would not be practicable, it shall be as though I did, for I will never allude to it by word or deed. That will be my concession, Karl. You must make one on your side." "Willingly. What is it?" "Clear the Maze immediately of its tenants." He gave a slight start, knitting his brow. Lucy saw the proposal was unpalatable. "Their being there is an insult to me, Karl," she softly said, as if beseeching the boon. "You must get them away." "I cannot, Lucy," he answered, his face wrung with pain. "I wish I could! Don't you understand that I have no control over this?" "I think I understand," she said, her manner growing cold. "You have said as much before. Why can you not? It seems to me, if things be as you intimate, that the matter would be easily accomplished. You need only show firmness." He thought haw little she understood. But he could not bear to enlarge upon it, and said nothing. "There are houses enough, and to spare, in the world, Karl." "Plenty of them." "Then why not let the Maze be left?" "More things than one are against it, Lucy. There are wheels within wheels," he added, thinking of Smith the mysterious agent. "One great element against it is the risk--the danger." "Danger of exposure, do you mean?" "Of discovery. Yes." Never had Karl Andinnian and his wife been so near coming to an enlightenment on the misunderstanding that lay between them and their peace. It passed off--just as many another good word passes off, unsaid, in life. "My hands are tied, Lucy. If wishing the Maze empty would effect it, it would be vacant to-morrow. I can do nothing." "I understand," she said bitterly, even as she had said once before, all the old resentful indignation rising up within her. "I understand, Sir Karl. There are complications, entanglements; and you cannot free yourself from them." "Precisely so." "_Is_ the sin of the past?" she asked with flashing eyes and a rising colour; her voice betraying her frame of mind. He gazed at her, unable to understand.