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“
He
didn
’
t
take
her
!
”
They
pulled
on
in
silence
till
Tess
,
without
any
premonitory
symptoms
,
burst
out
crying
.
“
There
!
”
said
Marian
.
“
Now
I
wish
I
hadn
’
t
told
‘
ee
!
”
“
No
.
It
is
a
very
good
thing
that
you
have
done
!
I
have
been
living
on
in
a
thirtover
,
lackaday
way
,
and
have
not
seen
what
it
may
lead
to
!
I
ought
to
have
sent
him
a
letter
oftener
.
He
said
I
could
not
go
to
him
,
but
he
didn
’
t
say
I
was
not
to
write
as
often
as
I
liked
.
I
won
’
t
dally
like
this
any
longer
!
I
have
been
very
wrong
and
neglectful
in
leaving
everything
to
be
done
by
him
!
”
The
dim
light
in
the
barn
grew
dimmer
,
and
they
could
see
to
work
no
longer
.
When
Tess
had
reached
home
that
evening
,
and
had
entered
into
the
privacy
of
her
little
white
-
washed
chamber
,
she
began
impetuously
writing
a
letter
to
Clare
.
But
falling
into
doubt
she
could
not
finish
it
.
Afterwards
she
took
the
ring
from
the
ribbon
on
which
she
wore
it
next
her
heart
,
and
retained
it
on
her
finger
all
night
,
as
if
to
fortify
herself
in
the
sensation
that
she
was
really
the
wife
of
this
elusive
lover
of
hers
,
who
could
propose
that
Izz
should
go
with
him
abroad
,
so
shortly
after
he
had
left
her
.
Knowing
that
,
how
could
she
write
entreaties
to
him
,
or
show
that
she
cared
for
him
any
more
?
By
the
disclosure
in
the
barn
her
thoughts
were
led
anew
in
the
direction
which
they
had
taken
more
than
once
of
late
—
to
the
distant
Emminster
Vicarage
.
It
was
through
her
husband
’
s
parents
that
she
had
been
charged
to
send
a
letter
to
Clare
if
she
desired
;
and
to
write
to
them
direct
if
in
difficulty
.
But
that
sense
of
her
having
morally
no
claim
upon
him
had
always
led
Tess
to
suspend
her
impulse
to
send
these
notes
;
and
to
the
family
at
the
Vicarage
,
therefore
,
as
to
her
own
parents
since
her
marriage
,
she
was
virtually
non
-
existent
.
This
self
-
effacement
in
both
directions
had
been
quite
in
consonance
with
her
independent
character
of
desiring
nothing
by
way
of
favour
or
pity
to
which
she
was
not
entitled
on
a
fair
consideration
of
her
deserts
.
She
had
set
herself
to
stand
or
fall
by
her
qualities
,
and
to
waive
such
merely
technical
claims
upon
a
strange
family
as
had
been
established
for
her
by
the
flimsy
fact
of
a
member
of
that
family
,
in
a
season
of
impulse
,
writing
his
name
in
a
church
-
book
beside
hers
.
But
now
that
she
was
stung
to
a
fever
by
Izz
’
s
tale
there
was
a
limit
to
her
powers
of
renunciation
.
Why
had
her
husband
not
written
to
her
?
He
had
distinctly
implied
that
he
would
at
least
let
her
know
of
the
locality
to
which
he
had
journeyed
;
but
he
had
not
sent
a
line
to
notify
his
address
.
Was
he
really
indifferent
?
But
was
he
ill
?
Was
it
for
her
to
make
some
advance
?
Surely
she
might
summon
the
courage
of
solicitude
,
call
at
the
Vicarage
for
intelligence
,
and
express
her
grief
at
his
silence
.
If
Angel
’
s
father
were
the
good
man
she
had
heard
him
represented
to
be
,
he
would
be
able
to
enter
into
her
heart
-
starved
situation
.
Her
social
hardships
she
could
conceal
.
To
leave
the
farm
on
a
week
-
day
was
not
in
her
power
;
Sunday
was
the
only
possible
opportunity
.
Flintcomb
-
Ash
being
in
the
middle
of
the
cretaceous
tableland
over
which
no
railway
had
climbed
as
yet
,
it
would
be
necessary
to
walk
.
And
the
distance
being
fifteen
miles
each
way
she
would
have
to
allow
herself
a
long
day
for
the
undertaking
by
rising
early
.
A
fortnight
later
,
when
the
snow
had
gone
,
and
had
been
followed
by
a
hard
black
frost
,
she
took
advantage
of
the
state
of
the
roads
to
try
the
experiment
.
At
four
o
’
clock
that
Sunday
morning
she
came
downstairs
and
stepped
out
into
the
starlight
.
The
weather
was
still
favourable
,
the
ground
ringing
under
her
feet
like
an
anvil
.
