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“
He
is
Amby
Seedling
,
the
chap
who
used
to
sometimes
come
and
help
at
Talbothays
,
”
she
explained
indifferently
.
“
He
actually
inquired
and
found
out
that
I
had
come
here
,
and
has
followed
me
.
He
says
he
’
s
been
in
love
wi
’
me
these
two
years
.
But
I
’
ve
hardly
answered
him
.
”
Several
days
had
passed
since
her
futile
journey
,
and
Tess
was
afield
.
The
dry
winter
wind
still
blew
,
but
a
screen
of
thatched
hurdles
erected
in
the
eye
of
the
blast
kept
its
force
away
from
her
.
On
the
sheltered
side
was
a
turnip
-
slicing
machine
,
whose
bright
blue
hue
of
new
paint
seemed
almost
vocal
in
the
otherwise
subdued
scene
.
Opposite
its
front
was
a
long
mound
or
“
grave
”
,
in
which
the
roots
had
been
preserved
since
early
winter
.
Tess
was
standing
at
the
uncovered
end
,
chopping
off
with
a
bill
-
hook
the
fibres
and
earth
from
each
root
,
and
throwing
it
after
the
operation
into
the
slicer
.
A
man
was
turning
the
handle
of
the
machine
,
and
from
its
trough
came
the
newly
-
cut
swedes
,
the
fresh
smell
of
whose
yellow
chips
was
accompanied
by
the
sounds
of
the
snuffling
wind
,
the
smart
swish
of
the
slicing
-
blades
,
and
the
choppings
of
the
hook
in
Tess
’
s
leather
-
gloved
hand
.
The
wide
acreage
of
blank
agricultural
brownness
,
apparent
where
the
swedes
had
been
pulled
,
was
beginning
to
be
striped
in
wales
of
darker
brown
,
gradually
broadening
to
ribands
.
Along
the
edge
of
each
of
these
something
crept
upon
ten
legs
,
moving
without
haste
and
without
rest
up
and
down
the
whole
length
of
the
field
;
it
was
two
horses
and
a
man
,
the
plough
going
between
them
,
turning
up
the
cleared
ground
for
a
spring
sowing
.
For
hours
nothing
relieved
the
joyless
monotony
of
things
.
Then
,
far
beyond
the
ploughing
-
teams
,
a
black
speck
was
seen
.
It
had
come
from
the
corner
of
a
fence
,
where
there
was
a
gap
,
and
its
tendency
was
up
the
incline
,
towards
the
swede
-
cutters
.
From
the
proportions
of
a
mere
point
it
advanced
to
the
shape
of
a
ninepin
,
and
was
soon
perceived
to
be
a
man
in
black
,
arriving
from
the
direction
of
Flintcomb
-
Ash
.
The
man
at
the
slicer
,
having
nothing
else
to
do
with
his
eyes
,
continually
observed
the
comer
,
but
Tess
,
who
was
occupied
,
did
not
perceived
him
till
her
companion
directed
her
attention
to
his
approach
.
It
was
not
her
hard
taskmaster
,
Farmer
Groby
;
it
was
one
in
a
semi
-
clerical
costume
,
who
now
represented
what
had
once
been
the
free
-
and
-
easy
Alec
d
’
Urberville
.
Not
being
hot
at
his
preaching
there
was
less
enthusiasm
about
him
now
,
and
the
presence
of
the
grinder
seemed
to
embarrass
him
.
A
pale
distress
was
already
on
Tess
’
s
face
,
and
she
pulled
her
curtained
hood
further
over
it
.
D
’
Urberville
came
up
and
said
quietly
—
“
I
want
to
speak
to
you
,
Tess
.
”
“
You
have
refused
my
last
request
,
not
to
come
near
me
!
”
said
she
.
“
Yes
,
but
I
have
a
good
reason
.
”
