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With
the
shortening
of
the
days
all
hope
of
obtaining
her
husband
’
s
forgiveness
began
to
leave
her
;
and
there
was
something
of
the
habitude
of
the
wild
animal
in
the
unreflecting
instinct
with
which
she
rambled
on
—
disconnecting
herself
by
littles
from
her
eventful
past
at
every
step
,
obliterating
her
identity
,
giving
no
thought
to
accidents
or
contingencies
which
might
make
a
quick
discovery
of
her
whereabouts
by
others
of
importance
to
her
own
happiness
,
if
not
to
theirs
.
Among
the
difficulties
of
her
lonely
position
not
the
least
was
the
attention
she
excited
by
her
appearance
,
a
certain
bearing
of
distinction
,
which
she
had
caught
from
Clare
,
being
superadded
to
her
natural
attractiveness
.
Whilst
the
clothes
lasted
which
had
been
prepared
for
her
marriage
,
these
casual
glances
of
interest
caused
her
no
inconvenience
,
but
as
soon
as
she
was
compelled
to
don
the
wrapper
of
a
fieldwoman
,
rude
words
were
addressed
to
her
more
than
once
;
but
nothing
occurred
to
cause
her
bodily
fear
till
a
particular
November
afternoon
.
She
had
preferred
the
country
west
of
the
River
Brit
to
the
upland
farm
for
which
she
was
now
bound
,
because
,
for
one
thing
,
it
was
nearer
to
the
home
of
her
husband
’
s
father
;
and
to
hover
about
that
region
unrecognized
,
with
the
notion
that
she
might
decide
to
call
at
the
Vicarage
some
day
,
gave
her
pleasure
.
But
having
once
decided
to
try
the
higher
and
drier
levels
,
she
pressed
back
eastward
,
marching
afoot
towards
the
village
of
Chalk
-
Newton
,
where
she
meant
to
pass
the
night
.
The
lane
was
long
and
unvaried
,
and
,
owing
to
the
rapid
shortening
of
the
days
,
dusk
came
upon
her
before
she
was
aware
.
She
had
reached
the
top
of
a
hill
down
which
the
lane
stretched
its
serpentine
length
in
glimpses
,
when
she
heard
footsteps
behind
her
back
,
and
in
a
few
moments
she
was
overtaken
by
a
man
.
He
stepped
up
alongside
Tess
and
said
—
“
Goodnight
,
my
pretty
maid
”
:
to
which
she
civilly
replied
.
The
light
still
remaining
in
the
sky
lit
up
her
face
,
though
the
landscape
was
nearly
dark
.
The
man
turned
and
stared
hard
at
her
.
“
Why
,
surely
,
it
is
the
young
wench
who
was
at
Trantridge
awhile
—
young
Squire
d
’
Urberville
’
s
friend
?
I
was
there
at
that
time
,
though
I
don
’
t
live
there
now
.
”
She
recognized
in
him
the
well
-
to
-
do
boor
whom
Angel
had
knocked
down
at
the
inn
for
addressing
her
coarsely
.
A
spasm
of
anguish
shot
through
her
,
and
she
returned
him
no
answer
.
“
Be
honest
enough
to
own
it
,
and
that
what
I
said
in
the
town
was
true
,
though
your
fancy
-
man
was
so
up
about
it
—
hey
,
my
sly
one
?
You
ought
to
beg
my
pardon
for
that
blow
of
his
,
considering
.
”
