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TESS OF THE D’URBERVILLES

The pollard willows, tortured out of their natural shape by incessant choppings, became spiny-haired monsters as they stood up against it. She went in, and upstairs without a light.

It was now Wednesday. Thursday came, and Angel looked thoughtfully at her from a distance, but intruded in no way upon her. The indoor milkmaids, Marian and the rest, seemed to guess that something definite was afoot, for they did not force any remarks upon her in the bedchamber. Friday passed; Saturday. To-morrow was the day.

‘I shall gie way—I shall say yes—I shall let myself marry him—I cannot help it!’ she jealously panted, with her hot face to the pillow that night, on hearing one of the other girls sigh his name in her sleep, ‘I can’t bear to let anybody have him but me! Yet it is a wrong to him, and may kill him when he knows! O my heart—O—O—O!’

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