swerved, and the two were visible to each other but divided from all
the rest.
Tess did not speak to her fellow-worker, nor did he speak to her.
Nor did she think of him further than to recollect that he had not
been there when it was broad daylight, and that she did not know
him as any one of the Marlott labourers, which was no wonder, her
absences having been so long and frequent of late years. By-and-by
he dug so close to her that the fire-beams were reflected as
distinctly from the steel prongs of his fork as from her own. On
going up to the fire to throw a pitch of dead weeds upon it, she
found that he did the same on the other side. The fire flared up,
and she beheld the face of d'Urberville.
The unexpectedness of his presence, the grotesqueness of his
appearance in a gathered smockfrock, such as was now worn only by the
most old-fashioned of the labourers, had a ghastly comicality that
chilled her as to its bearing. D'Urberville emitted a low, long
laugh.
'If I were inclined to joke, I should say, How much this seems like
Paradise!' he remarked whimsically, looking at her with an inclined
head.
'What do you say?' she weakly asked.
'A jester might say this is just like Paradise. You are Eve, and I
am the old Other One come to tempt you in the disguise of an inferior
animal. I used to be quite up in that scene of Milton's when I was
theological. Some of it goes--
''Empress, the way is ready, and not long,
Beyond a row of myrtles...
... If thou accept
My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon.'
'Lead then,' said Eve.
'And so on. My dear Tess, I am only putting this to you as a thing
that you might have supposed or said quite untruly, because you think
so badly of me.'
'I never said you were Satan, or thought it. I don't think of you in
that way at all. My thoughts of you are quite cold, except when you
affront me. What, did you come digging here entirely because of me?'
'Entirely. To see you; nothing more. The smockfrock, which I
saw hanging for sale as I came along, was an afterthought, that I
mightn't be noticed. I come to protest against your working like
this.'
'But I like doing it--it is for my father.'
'Your engagement at the other place is ended?'
'Yes.'
'Where are you going to next? To join your dear husband?'
She could not bear the humiliating reminder.
'O--I don't know!' she said bitterly. 'I have no husband!'
'It is quite true--in the sense you mean. But you have a friend, and
I have determined that you shall be comfortable in spite of yourself.
When you get down to your house you will see what I have sent there
