Phase the Seventh: Fulfilment
55. CHAPTER LV (continued)
Conjecture was useless, and just after twelve o'clock
he entered and went to bed. Before putting out his
light he re-read Tess's impassioned letter. Sleep,
however, he could not--so near her, yet so far from
her--and he continually lifted the window-blind and
regarded the backs of the opposite houses, and wondered
behind which of the sashes she reposed at that moment.
He might almost as well have sat up all night. In the
morning he arose at seven, and shortly after went out,
taking the direction of the chief post-office. At the
door he met an intelligent postman coming out with
letters for the morning delivery.
"Do you know the address of a Mrs Clare?" asked Angel.
The postman shook his head.
Then, remembering that she would have been likely to
continue the use of her maiden name, Clare said----
"Of a Miss Durbeyfield?"
"Durbeyfield?"
This also was strange to the postman addressed.
"There's visitors coming and going every day, as you
know, sir," he said; "and without the name of the house
'tis impossible to find 'em."
One of his comrades hastening out at that moment, the
name was repeated to him.
"I know no name of Durbeyfield; but there is the name
of d'Urberville at The Herons," said the second.
"That's it!" cried Clare, pleased to think that she has
reverted to the real pronunciation. "What place is The
Herons?"
"A stylish lodging-house. 'Tis all lodging-houses
here, bless 'ee."
Clare received directions how to find the house, and
hastened thither, arriving with the milkman. The
Herons, though an ordinary villa, stood in its own
grounds, and was certainly the last place in which one
would have expected to find lodgings, so private was
its appearance. If poor Tess was a servant here, as he
feared, she would go to the back-door to that milkman,
and he was inclined to go thither also. However, in
his doubts he turned to the front, and rang.
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