Phase the Fourth: The Consequence
34. CHAPTER XXXIV (continued)
Angel, suddenly recollecting that Tess was overhearing
this gloomy tale, went to shut the door between the
passage and the ante-room to the inner parlour where
she was; but his wife, flinging a shawl round her, had
come to the outer room and was listening to the man's
narrative, her eyes resting absently on the luggage and
the drops of rain glistening upon it.
"And, more than this, there's Marian; she's been found
dead drunk by the withy-bed--a girl who hev never been
known to touch anything before except shilling ale;
though, to be sure, 'a was always a good trencher-
woman, as her face showed. It seems as if the maids
had all gone out o' their minds!"
"And Izz?" asked Tess.
"Izz is about house as usual; but 'a do say 'a can
guess how it happened; and she seems to be very low in
mind about it, poor maid, as well she mid be. And so
you see, sir, as all this happened just when we was
packing your few traps and your Mis'ess's night-rail
and dressing things into the cart, why, it belated me."
"Yes. Well, Jonathan, will you get the trunks
upstairs, and drink a cup of ale, and hasten back as
soon as you can, in case you should be wanted?"
Tess had gone back to the inner parlour, and sat down
by the fire, looking wistfully into it. She heard
Jonathan Kail's heavy footsteps up and down the stairs
till he had done placing the luggage, and heard him
express his thanks for the ale her husband took out to
him, and for the gratuity he received. Jonathan's
footsteps then died from the door, and his cart creaked
away.
Angel slid forward the massive oak bar which secured
the door, and coming in to where she sat over the
hearth, pressed her cheeks between his hands from
behind. He expected her to jump up gaily and unpack
the toilet-gear that she had been so anxious about, but
as she did not rise he sat down with her in the
firelight, the candles on the supper-table being too
thin and glimmering to interfere with its glow.
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