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She
was
far
from
having
a
wish
to
appear
mysteriously
connected
with
him
;
but
woman
at
the
impressionable
age
gravitates
to
the
larger
body
not
only
in
her
choice
of
words
,
which
is
apparent
every
day
,
but
even
in
her
shades
of
tone
and
humour
,
when
the
influence
is
great
.
What
they
conversed
about
was
not
audible
to
Gabriel
,
who
was
too
independent
to
get
near
,
though
too
concerned
to
disregard
.
The
issue
of
their
dialogue
was
the
taking
of
her
hand
by
the
courteous
farmer
to
help
her
over
the
spreading
-
board
into
the
bright
June
sunlight
outside
.
Standing
beside
the
sheep
already
shorn
,
they
went
on
talking
again
.
Concerning
the
flock
?
Apparently
not
.
Gabriel
theorized
,
not
without
truth
,
that
in
quiet
discussion
of
any
matter
within
reach
of
the
speakers
’
eyes
,
these
are
usually
fixed
upon
it
.
Bathsheba
demurely
regarded
a
contemptible
straw
lying
upon
the
ground
,
in
a
way
which
suggested
less
ovine
criticism
than
womanly
embarrassment
.
She
became
more
or
less
red
in
the
cheek
,
the
blood
wavering
in
uncertain
flux
and
reflux
over
the
sensitive
space
between
ebb
and
flood
.
Gabriel
sheared
on
,
constrained
and
sad
.
She
left
Boldwood
’
s
side
,
and
he
walked
up
and
down
alone
for
nearly
a
quarter
of
an
hour
.
Then
she
reappeared
in
her
new
riding
-
habit
of
myrtle
green
,
which
fitted
her
to
the
waist
as
a
rind
fits
its
fruit
;
and
young
Bob
Coggan
led
on
her
mare
,
Boldwood
fetching
his
own
horse
from
the
tree
under
which
it
had
been
tied
.
Oak
’
s
eyes
could
not
forsake
them
;
and
in
endeavouring
to
continue
his
shearing
at
the
same
time
that
he
watched
Boldwood
’
s
manner
,
he
snipped
the
sheep
in
the
groin
.
The
animal
plunged
;
Bathsheba
instantly
gazed
towards
it
,
and
saw
the
blood
.
"
Oh
,
Gabriel
!
"
she
exclaimed
,
with
severe
remonstrance
,
"
you
who
are
so
strict
with
the
other
men
—
see
what
you
are
doing
yourself
!
"
To
an
outsider
there
was
not
much
to
complain
of
in
this
remark
;
but
to
Oak
,
who
knew
Bathsheba
to
be
well
aware
that
she
herself
was
the
cause
of
the
poor
ewe
’
s
wound
,
because
she
had
wounded
the
ewe
’
s
shearer
in
a
still
more
vital
part
,
it
had
a
sting
which
the
abiding
sense
of
his
inferiority
to
both
herself
and
Boldwood
was
not
calculated
to
heal
.
But
a
manly
resolve
to
recognize
boldly
that
he
had
no
longer
a
lover
’
s
interest
in
her
,
helped
him
occasionally
to
conceal
a
feeling
.
"
Bottle
!
"
he
shouted
,
in
an
unmoved
voice
of
routine
.
Cainy
Ball
ran
up
,
the
wound
was
anointed
,
and
the
shearing
continued
.
Boldwood
gently
tossed
Bathsheba
into
the
saddle
,
and
before
they
turned
away
she
again
spoke
out
to
Oak
with
the
same
dominative
and
tantalizing
graciousness
.
"
I
am
going
now
to
see
Mr
.
Boldwood
’
s
Leicesters
.
Take
my
place
in
the
barn
,
Gabriel
,
and
keep
the
men
carefully
to
their
work
.
"
