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XLI. Suspicion—Fanny Is Sent For

           "

           "Joseph,comehitheramoment.WhatwasthecolourofFannyRobin’shair?"

           "Really,mistress,nowthat’tisputtomesojudge-and-jurylike,Ican’tcalltomind,ifye’llbelieveme!"

           "Nevermind;goonanddowhatItoldyou.Stopwellno,goon."

           Sheturnedherselfawayfromhim,thathemightnolongernoticethemoodwhichhadsetitssignsovisiblyuponher,andwentindoorswithadistressingsenseoffaintnessandabeatingbrow.Aboutanhourafter,sheheardthenoiseofthewaggonandwentout,stillwithapainfulconsciousnessofherbewilderedandtroubledlook.Joseph,dressedinhisbestsuitofclothes,wasputtinginthehorsetostart.Theshrubsandflowerswereallpiledinthewaggon,asshehaddirected;Bathshebahardlysawthemnow.

           "Diedofwhat?didyousay,Joseph?"

           "Idon’tknow,ma’am."

           "Areyouquitesure?"

           "Yes,ma’am,quitesure."

           "Sureofwhat?"

           "I’msurethatallIknowisthatshearrivedinthemorninganddiedintheeveningwithoutfurtherparley.WhatOakandMr.Boldwoodtoldmewasonlythesefewwords.’LittleFannyRobinisdead,Joseph,’Gabrielsaid,lookinginmyfaceinhissteadyoldway.Iwasverysorry,andIsaid,’Ah!andhowdidshecometodie?’’Well,she’sdeadinCasterbridgeUnion,’hesaid,’andperhaps’tisn’tmuchmatterabouthowshecametodie.ShereachedtheUnionearlySundaymorning,anddiedintheafternoonthat’sclearenough.’ThenIaskedwhatshe’dbeendoinglately,andMr.Boldwoodturnedroundtomethen,andleftoffspittingathistlewiththeendofhisstick.

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