Book Five — The Discovery

I. The Rencounter by the Pool

           

           Oneevening,aboutthreeweeksafterthefuneralofMrs.Yeobright,whenthesilverfaceofthemoonsentabundleofbeamsdirectlyuponthefloorofClym’shouseatAlderworth,awomancameforthfromwithin.Shereclinedoverthegardengateasiftorefreshherselfawhile.Thepalelunartoucheswhichmakebeautiesofhagslentdivinitytothisface,alreadybeautiful.

           Shehadnotlongbeentherewhenamancameuptheroadandwithsomehesitationsaidtoher,“Howishetonight,ma’am,ifyouplease?”

           “Heisbetter,thoughstillveryunwell,Humphrey,”repliedEustacia.

           “Ishelight-headed,ma’am?”

           “No.Heisquitesensiblenow.”

           “Doheraveabouthismotherjustthesame,poorfellow?”continuedHumphrey.

           “Justasmuch,thoughnotquitesowildly,”shesaidinalowvoice.

           “Itwasveryunfortunate,ma’am,thattheboyJohnnyshouldeverha’toldhimhismother’sdyingwords,aboutherbeingbroken-heartedandcastoffbyherson.’Twasenoughtoupsetanymanalive.”

           Eustaciamadenoreplybeyondthatofaslightcatchinherbreath,asofonewhofainwouldspeakbutcouldnot;andHumphrey,decliningherinvitationtocomein,wentaway.

           Eustaciaturned,enteredthehouse,andascendedtothefrontbedroom,whereashadedlightwasburning.InthebedlayClym,pale,haggard,wideawake,tossingtoonesideandtotheother,hiseyeslitbyahotlight,asifthefireintheirpupilswereburninguptheirsubstance.

           “Isityou,Eustacia?”hesaidasshesatdown.

           “Yes,Clym.Ihavebeendowntothegate.

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