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“
My
wife
—
dead
,
dead
!
”
he
said
.
He
paused
in
his
labours
for
a
moment
to
lean
with
her
against
the
banister
.
Was
he
going
to
throw
her
down
?
Self
-
solicitude
was
near
extinction
in
her
,
and
in
the
knowledge
that
he
had
planned
to
depart
on
the
morrow
,
possibly
for
always
,
she
lay
in
his
arms
in
this
precarious
position
with
a
sense
rather
of
luxury
than
of
terror
.
If
they
could
only
fall
together
,
and
both
be
dashed
to
pieces
,
how
fit
,
how
desirable
.
However
,
he
did
not
let
her
fall
,
but
took
advantage
of
the
support
of
the
handrail
to
imprint
a
kiss
upon
her
lips
—
lips
in
the
daytime
scorned
.
Then
he
clasped
her
with
a
renewed
firmness
of
hold
,
and
descended
the
staircase
.
The
creak
of
the
loose
stair
did
not
awaken
him
,
and
they
reached
the
ground
-
floor
safely
.
Freeing
one
of
his
hands
from
his
grasp
of
her
for
a
moment
,
he
slid
back
the
door
-
bar
and
passed
out
,
slightly
striking
his
stockinged
toe
against
the
edge
of
the
door
.
But
this
he
seemed
not
to
mind
,
and
,
having
room
for
extension
in
the
open
air
,
he
lifted
her
against
his
shoulder
,
so
that
he
could
carry
her
with
ease
,
the
absence
of
clothes
taking
much
from
his
burden
.
Thus
he
bore
her
off
the
premises
in
the
direction
of
the
river
a
few
yards
distant
.
His
ultimate
intention
,
if
he
had
any
,
she
had
not
yet
divined
;
and
she
found
herself
conjecturing
on
the
matter
as
a
third
person
might
have
done
.
So
easefully
had
she
delivered
her
whole
being
up
to
him
that
it
pleased
her
to
think
he
was
regarding
her
as
his
absolute
possession
,
to
dispose
of
as
he
should
choose
.
It
was
consoling
,
under
the
hovering
terror
of
tomorrow
’
s
separation
,
to
feel
that
he
really
recognized
her
now
as
his
wife
Tess
,
and
did
not
cast
her
off
,
even
if
in
that
recognition
he
went
so
far
as
to
arrogate
to
himself
the
right
of
harming
her
.
Ah
!
now
she
knew
what
he
was
dreaming
of
—
that
Sunday
morning
when
he
had
borne
her
along
through
the
water
with
the
other
dairymaids
,
who
had
loved
him
nearly
as
much
as
she
,
if
that
were
possible
,
which
Tess
could
hardly
admit
.
Clare
did
not
cross
the
bridge
with
her
,
but
proceeding
several
paces
on
the
same
side
towards
the
adjoining
mill
,
at
length
stood
still
on
the
brink
of
the
river
.
Its
waters
,
in
creeping
down
these
miles
of
meadowland
,
frequently
divided
,
serpentining
in
purposeless
curves
,
looping
themselves
around
little
islands
that
had
no
name
,
returning
and
re
-
embodying
themselves
as
a
broad
main
stream
further
on
.
Opposite
the
spot
to
which
he
had
brought
her
was
such
a
general
confluence
,
and
the
river
was
proportionately
voluminous
and
deep
.
Across
it
was
a
narrow
foot
-
bridge
;
but
now
the
autumn
flood
had
washed
the
handrail
away
,
leaving
the
bare
plank
only
,
which
,
lying
a
few
inches
above
the
speeding
current
,
formed
a
giddy
pathway
for
even
steady
heads
;
and
Tess
had
noticed
from
the
window
of
the
house
in
the
daytime
young
men
walking
across
upon
it
as
a
feat
in
balancing
.
Her
husband
had
possibly
observed
the
same
performance
;
anyhow
,
he
now
mounted
the
plank
,
and
,
sliding
one
foot
forward
,
advanced
along
it
.
Was
he
going
to
drown
her
?
Probably
he
was
.
The
spot
was
lonely
,
the
river
deep
and
wide
enough
to
make
such
a
purpose
easy
of
accomplishment
.
He
might
drown
her
if
he
would
;
it
would
be
better
than
parting
tomorrow
to
lead
severed
lives
.
The
swift
stream
raced
and
gyrated
under
them
,
tossing
,
distorting
,
and
splitting
the
moon
’
s
reflected
face
.
Spots
of
froth
travelled
past
,
and
intercepted
weeds
waved
behind
the
piles
.
If
they
could
both
fall
together
into
the
current
now
,
their
arms
would
be
so
tightly
clasped
together
that
they
could
not
be
saved
;
they
would
go
out
of
the
world
almost
painlessly
,
and
there
would
be
no
more
reproach
to
her
,
or
to
him
for
marrying
her
.
His
last
half
-
hour
with
her
would
have
been
a
loving
one
,
while
if
they
lived
till
he
awoke
his
daytime
aversion
would
return
,
and
this
hour
would
remain
to
be
contemplated
only
as
a
transient
dream
.
