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It
was
a
three
-
mile
walk
,
along
a
dry
white
road
,
made
whiter
tonight
by
the
light
of
the
moon
.
Tess
soon
perceived
as
she
walked
in
the
flock
,
sometimes
with
this
one
,
sometimes
with
that
,
that
the
fresh
night
air
was
producing
staggerings
and
serpentine
courses
among
then
men
who
had
partaken
too
freely
;
some
of
the
more
careless
women
also
were
wandering
in
their
gait
—
to
wit
,
a
dark
virago
,
Car
Darch
,
dubbed
Queen
of
Spades
,
till
lately
a
favourite
of
d
’
Urberville
’
s
;
Nancy
,
her
sister
,
nicknamed
the
Queen
of
Diamonds
;
and
the
young
married
woman
who
had
already
tumbled
down
.
Yet
however
terrestrial
and
lumpy
their
appearance
just
now
to
the
mean
unglamoured
eye
,
to
themselves
the
case
was
different
.
They
followed
the
road
with
a
sensation
that
they
were
soaring
along
in
a
supporting
medium
,
possessed
of
original
and
profound
thoughts
,
themselves
and
surrounding
nature
forming
an
organism
of
which
all
the
parts
harmoniously
and
joyously
interpenetrated
each
other
.
They
were
as
sublime
as
the
moon
and
stars
above
them
,
and
the
moon
and
stars
were
as
ardent
as
they
.
Tess
,
however
,
had
undergone
such
painful
experiences
of
this
kind
in
her
father
’
s
house
,
that
the
discovery
of
their
condition
spoilt
the
pleasure
she
was
beginning
to
feel
in
the
moonlight
journey
.
Yet
she
stuck
to
the
party
,
for
reasons
above
given
.
In
the
open
highway
they
had
progressed
in
scattered
order
;
but
now
their
route
was
through
a
field
-
gate
,
and
the
foremost
finding
a
difficulty
in
opening
it
they
closed
up
together
.
This
leading
pedestrian
was
Car
the
Queen
of
Spades
,
who
carried
a
wicker
-
basket
containing
her
mother
’
s
groceries
,
her
own
draperies
,
and
other
purchases
for
the
week
.
The
basket
being
large
and
heavy
,
Car
had
placed
it
for
convenience
of
porterage
on
the
top
of
her
head
,
where
it
rode
on
in
jeopardized
balance
as
she
walked
with
arms
akimbo
.
“
Well
—
whatever
is
that
a
-
creeping
down
thy
back
,
Car
Darch
?
”
said
one
of
the
group
suddenly
.
All
looked
at
Car
.
Her
gown
was
a
light
cotton
print
,
and
from
the
back
of
her
head
a
kind
of
rope
could
be
seen
descending
to
some
distance
below
her
waist
,
like
a
Chinaman
’
s
queue
.
“
’
Tis
her
hair
falling
down
,
”
said
another
.
No
;
it
was
not
her
hair
:
it
was
a
black
stream
of
something
oozing
from
her
basket
,
and
it
glistened
like
a
slimy
snake
in
the
cold
still
rays
of
the
moon
.
“
’
Tis
treacle
,
”
said
an
observant
matron
.
