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He
drew
a
piece
of
parchment
from
his
pocket
,
with
a
slight
fumbling
of
embarrassment
.
“
What
is
it
?
”
said
she
.
“
A
marriage
licence
.
”
“
O
no
,
sir
—
no
!
”
she
said
quickly
,
starting
back
.
“
You
will
not
?
Why
is
that
?
”
And
as
he
asked
the
question
a
disappointment
which
was
not
entirely
the
disappointment
of
thwarted
duty
crossed
d
’
Urberville
’
s
face
.
It
was
unmistakably
a
symptom
that
something
of
his
old
passion
for
her
had
been
revived
;
duty
and
desire
ran
hand
-
in
-
hand
.
“
Surely
,
”
he
began
again
,
in
more
impetuous
tones
,
and
then
looked
round
at
the
labourer
who
turned
the
slicer
.
Tess
,
too
,
felt
that
the
argument
could
not
be
ended
there
.
Informing
the
man
that
a
gentleman
had
come
to
see
her
,
with
whom
she
wished
to
walk
a
little
way
,
she
moved
off
with
d
’
Urberville
across
the
zebra
-
striped
field
.
When
they
reached
the
first
newly
-
ploughed
section
he
held
out
his
hand
to
help
her
over
it
;
but
she
stepped
forward
on
the
summits
of
the
earth
-
rolls
as
if
she
did
not
see
him
.
“
You
will
not
marry
me
,
Tess
,
and
make
me
a
self
-
respecting
man
?
”
he
repeated
,
as
soon
as
they
were
over
the
furrows
.
“
I
cannot
.
”
