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- Тэсс из рода д’Эрбервиллей
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- Стр. 359/360
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“
What
is
it
,
Angel
?
”
she
said
,
starting
up
.
“
Have
they
come
for
me
?
”
“
Yes
,
dearest
,
”
he
said
.
“
They
have
come
.
”
“
It
is
as
it
should
be
,
”
she
murmured
.
“
Angel
,
I
am
almost
glad
—
yes
,
glad
!
This
happiness
could
not
have
lasted
.
It
was
too
much
.
I
have
had
enough
;
and
now
I
shall
not
live
for
you
to
despise
me
!
”
She
stood
up
,
shook
herself
,
and
went
forward
,
neither
of
the
men
having
moved
.
“
I
am
ready
,
”
she
said
quietly
.
The
city
of
Wintoncester
,
that
fine
old
city
,
aforetime
capital
of
Wessex
,
lay
amidst
its
convex
and
concave
downlands
in
all
the
brightness
and
warmth
of
a
July
morning
.
The
gabled
brick
,
tile
,
and
freestone
houses
had
almost
dried
off
for
the
season
their
integument
of
lichen
,
the
streams
in
the
meadows
were
low
,
and
in
the
sloping
High
Street
,
from
the
West
Gateway
to
the
mediaeval
cross
,
and
from
the
mediaeval
cross
to
the
bridge
,
that
leisurely
dusting
and
sweeping
was
in
progress
which
usually
ushers
in
an
old
-
fashioned
market
-
day
.
From
the
western
gate
aforesaid
the
highway
,
as
every
Wintoncestrian
knows
,
ascends
a
long
and
regular
incline
of
the
exact
length
of
a
measured
mile
,
leaving
the
houses
gradually
behind
.
Up
this
road
from
the
precincts
of
the
city
two
persons
were
walking
rapidly
,
as
if
unconscious
of
the
trying
ascent
—
unconscious
through
preoccupation
and
not
through
buoyancy
.
They
had
emerged
upon
this
road
through
a
narrow
barred
wicket
in
a
high
wall
a
little
lower
down
.
They
seemed
anxious
to
get
out
of
the
sight
of
the
houses
and
of
their
kind
,
and
this
road
appeared
to
offer
the
quickest
means
of
doing
so
.
Though
they
were
young
they
walked
with
bowed
heads
,
which
gait
of
grief
the
sun
’
s
rays
smiled
on
pitilessly
.
One
of
the
pair
was
Angel
Clare
,
the
other
a
tall
budding
creature
—
half
girl
,
half
woman
—
a
spiritualized
image
of
Tess
,
slighter
than
she
,
but
with
the
same
beautiful
eyes
—
Clare
’
s
sister
-
in
-
law
,
‘
Liza
-
Lu
.
Their
pale
faces
seemed
to
have
shrunk
to
half
their
natural
size
.
They
moved
on
hand
in
hand
,
and
never
spoke
a
word
,
the
drooping
of
their
heads
being
that
of
Giotto
’
s
“
Two
Apostles
”
.
When
they
had
nearly
reached
the
top
of
the
great
West
Hill
the
clocks
in
the
town
struck
eight
.
Each
gave
a
start
at
the
notes
,
and
,
walking
onward
yet
a
few
steps
,
they
reached
the
first
milestone
,
standing
whitely
on
the
green
margin
of
the
grass
,
and
backed
by
the
down
,
which
here
was
open
to
the
road
.
They
entered
upon
the
turf
,
and
,
impelled
by
a
force
that
seemed
to
overrule
their
will
,
suddenly
stood
still
,
turned
,
and
waited
in
paralyzed
suspense
beside
the
stone
.
