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“
It
is
—
now
you
put
it
that
way
.
”
“
All
the
same
,
I
shouldn
’
t
have
expected
a
young
girl
like
you
to
see
it
so
just
yet
.
How
is
it
you
do
?
”
She
maintained
a
hesitating
silence
.
“
Come
,
Tess
,
tell
me
in
confidence
.
”
She
thought
that
he
meant
what
were
the
aspects
of
things
to
her
,
and
replied
shyly
—
“
The
trees
have
inquisitive
eyes
,
haven
’
t
they
?
—
that
is
,
seem
as
if
they
had
.
And
the
river
says
,
—
‘
Why
do
ye
trouble
me
with
your
looks
?
’
And
you
seem
to
see
numbers
of
tomorrows
just
all
in
a
line
,
the
first
of
them
the
biggest
and
clearest
,
the
others
getting
smaller
and
smaller
as
they
stand
farther
away
;
but
they
all
seem
very
fierce
and
cruel
and
as
if
they
said
,
‘
I
’
m
coming
!
Beware
of
me
!
Beware
of
me
!
’
.
.
.
But
YOU
,
sir
,
can
raise
up
dreams
with
your
music
,
and
drive
all
such
horrid
fancies
away
!
”
He
was
surprised
to
find
this
young
woman
—
who
though
but
a
milkmaid
had
just
that
touch
of
rarity
about
her
which
might
make
her
the
envied
of
her
housemates
—
shaping
such
sad
imaginings
.
She
was
expressing
in
her
own
native
phrases
—
assisted
a
little
by
her
Sixth
Standard
training
—
feelings
which
might
almost
have
been
called
those
of
the
age
—
the
ache
of
modernism
.
The
perception
arrested
him
less
when
he
reflected
that
what
are
called
advanced
ideas
are
really
in
great
part
but
the
latest
fashion
in
definition
—
a
more
accurate
expression
,
by
words
in
LOGY
and
ISM
,
of
sensations
which
men
and
women
have
vaguely
grasped
for
centuries
.
Still
,
it
was
strange
that
they
should
have
come
to
her
while
yet
so
young
;
more
than
strange
;
it
was
impressive
,
interesting
,
pathetic
.
Not
guessing
the
cause
,
there
was
nothing
to
remind
him
that
experience
is
as
to
intensity
,
and
not
as
to
duration
.
Tess
’
s
passing
corporeal
blight
had
been
her
mental
harvest
.
Tess
,
on
her
part
,
could
not
understand
why
a
man
of
clerical
family
and
good
education
,
and
above
physical
want
,
should
look
upon
it
as
a
mishap
to
be
alive
.
For
the
unhappy
pilgrim
herself
there
was
very
good
reason
.
But
how
could
this
admirable
and
poetic
man
ever
have
descended
into
the
Valley
of
Humiliation
,
have
felt
with
the
man
of
Uz
—
as
she
herself
had
felt
two
or
three
years
ago
—
‘
My
soul
chooseth
strangling
and
death
rather
than
my
life
.
I
loathe
it
;
I
would
not
live
alway
.
”
