into the labyrinth--that you can live in health and happiness outside."

"There's rather more than that to be done, you'll admit," said the
doctor with an uncompromising bitterness.

Rankin colored. "I don't pretend that it's much of anything--what I've
done."

The doctor did not deny him. He thrust out his lips and rubbed his hand
nervously over his face. Finally, "But you have done it, at least," he
brought out, "and I've only talked. As another doctor has said: 'I've
never taken a bribe; but there's a pale shade of bribery known as
prosperity.'"

They fell into a silence, broken by Mrs. Sandworth's asking, "Lydia,
have your folks got an old mythology book? I studied it at school, of
course, but it has sort of passed out of my mind. Was it the Minotaur
that sowed teeth and something else very odd came up that you wouldn't
expect?"

Lydia did not smile. "I don't know whether we have the book or not, but
Miss Slater told us the story of the Minotaur. There's a picture of
Theseus and Ariadne in Europe somewhere--Munich, I think--or maybe
Siena. It was where one of the girls had a sore throat, I remember, and
we had to stay quite a while. Miss Slater told us about it then."

The doctor stood up. "Julia, it's nearly half-past now. Who remembered
this time? I'm off, all of you. Rankin, see that Lydia gets home safely,
will you?"

"Oh, I must go too--now, with you." The girl jumped up. "I didn't
realize it was so late. They'll be wondering at home."

"Come along, then, both of you. I'll go with you to the corner where I
take my car."

The chill of the night air sent them along at a brisk gait, Lydia
swinging easily between them, her head on a level with Rankin's, the
doctor's hat on a level with her ear. She said nothing, and the two
talked across her, disjointed bits of an argument apparently under
endless discussion between them.

The doctor flung down, with a militant despondency, "It'd be no use
trying to do anything, even if you weren't so slothful and sedentary as
you are! It moves in a vicious circle. Because material success is what
the majority want, the majority'll go on wanting it. Hardy says
somewhere that it's innate in human nature not to desire the undesired
of others."

Rankin sang out a ringing "Aw, g'wan! It's innate in human nature to
murder and steal whenever it pleases, and I guess even Hardy'd admit
that those aren't the amusements of the majority quite so extensively as
they used to be--