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"
It
was
because
I
didn
’
t
expect
it
.
Oh
,
you
have
spoilt
my
hair
!
"
"
Only
once
more
.
"
"
No
—
no
!
I
am
afraid
of
you
—
indeed
I
am
!
"
she
cried
.
"
I
won
’
t
touch
you
at
all
—
not
even
your
hair
.
I
am
only
going
to
kill
that
caterpillar
settling
on
you
.
Now
:
still
!
"
It
appeared
that
a
caterpillar
had
come
from
the
fern
and
chosen
the
front
of
her
bodice
as
his
resting
place
.
She
saw
the
point
glisten
towards
her
bosom
,
and
seemingly
enter
it
.
Bathsheba
closed
her
eyes
in
the
full
persuasion
that
she
was
killed
at
last
.
However
,
feeling
just
as
usual
,
she
opened
them
again
.
"
There
it
is
,
look
,
"
said
the
sergeant
,
holding
his
sword
before
her
eyes
.
The
caterpillar
was
spitted
upon
its
point
.
"
Why
,
it
is
magic
!
"
said
Bathsheba
,
amazed
.
"
Oh
no
—
dexterity
.
I
merely
gave
point
to
your
bosom
where
the
caterpillar
was
,
and
instead
of
running
you
through
checked
the
extension
a
thousandth
of
an
inch
short
of
your
surface
.
"
