Tess of the dUrbervilles - Page 60/283

"I shan't come back," said she. "I thought you wouldn't--I said so! Well, then, put up your basket,

and let me help you on." She listlessly placed her basket and bundle within the dog-cart, and

stepped up, and they sat side by side. She had no fear of him now,

and in the cause of her confidence her sorrow lay.

D'Urberville mechanically lit a cigar, and the journey was continued

with broken unemotional conversation on the commonplace objects by

the wayside. He had quite forgotten his struggle to kiss her when,

in the early summer, they had driven in the opposite direction along

the same road. But she had not, and she sat now, like a puppet,

replying to his remarks in monosyllables. After some miles they came

in view of the clump of trees beyond which the village of Marlott

stood. It was only then that her still face showed the least

emotion, a tear or two beginning to trickle down.

"What are you crying for?" he coldly asked.

"I was only thinking that I was born over there," murmured Tess.

"Well--we must all be born somewhere."

"I wish I had never been born--there or anywhere else!"

"Pooh! Well, if you didn't wish to come to Trantridge why did you

come?" She did not reply. "You didn't come for love of me, that I'll swear."

"'Tis quite true. If I had gone for love o' you, if I had ever

sincerely loved you, if I loved you still, I should not so loathe and

hate myself for my weakness as I do now! ... My eyes were dazed by

you for a little, and that was all."

He shrugged his shoulders.

She resumed-"I didn't understand your meaning till it was too late."

"That's what every woman says."

"How can you dare to use such words!" she cried, turning impetuously

upon him, her eyes flashing as the latent spirit (of which he was to

see more some day) awoke in her. "My God! I could knock you out of

the gig! Did it never strike your mind that what every woman says

some women may feel?"

"Very well," he said, laughing; "I am sorry to wound you. I did

wrong--I admit it." He dropped into some little bitterness as he

continued: "Only you needn't be so everlastingly flinging it in my

face. I am ready to pay to the uttermost farthing. You know you

need not work in the fields or the dairies again. You know you may

clothe yourself with the best, instead of in the bald plain way you

have lately affected, as if you couldn't get a ribbon more than you

earn." Her lip lifted slightly, though there was little scorn, as a rule,

in her large and impulsive nature.