ook at the mare. Why
go off like this? You know that nobody wished to hinder your going.
And how unnecessary it has been for you to toil along on foot, and
encumber yourself with this heavy load! I have followed like a
madman, simply to drive you the rest of the distance, if you won't
come back."

"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