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"
Yes
,
they
did
,
"
said
Gabriel
.
"
You
don
’
t
hold
the
shears
right
,
miss
—
I
knew
you
wouldn
’
t
know
the
way
—
hold
like
this
.
"
He
relinquished
the
winch
,
and
inclosing
her
two
hands
completely
in
his
own
(
taking
each
as
we
sometimes
slap
a
child
’
s
hand
in
teaching
him
to
write
)
,
grasped
the
shears
with
her
.
"
Incline
the
edge
so
,
"
he
said
.
Hands
and
shears
were
inclined
to
suit
the
words
,
and
held
thus
for
a
peculiarly
long
time
by
the
instructor
as
he
spoke
.
"
That
will
do
,
"
exclaimed
Bathsheba
.
"
Loose
my
hands
.
I
won
’
t
have
them
held
!
Turn
the
winch
.
"
Gabriel
freed
her
hands
quietly
,
retired
to
his
handle
,
and
the
grinding
went
on
.
"
Did
the
men
think
it
odd
?
"
she
said
again
.
"
Odd
was
not
the
idea
,
miss
.
"
"
What
did
they
say
?
"
"
That
Farmer
Boldwood
’
s
name
and
your
own
were
likely
to
be
flung
over
pulpit
together
before
the
year
was
out
.
"
