The Woodlanders Part 2, Thomas Hardy [e textbook reader txt] 📗
- Author: Thomas Hardy
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To Rise, And, After A Few Prefatory Blasts, To Be Accompanied by
Rain. The Wind Grew More Violent, And As The Storm Went On, It
Was Difficult To Believe That No Opaque Body, But Only An
Part 2 Chapter 16 Pg 100Invisible Colorless Thing, Was Trampling and Climbing over The
Roof, Making branches Creak, Springing out Of The Trees Upon The
Chimney, Popping its Head Into The Flue, And Shrieking and
Blaspheming at Every Corner Of The Walls. As In the Old Story,
The Assailant Was A Spectre Which Could Be Felt But Not Seen. She
Had Never Before Been So Struck With The Devilry Of A Gusty Night
In A Wood, Because She Had Never Been So Entirely Alone In spirit
As She Was Now. She Seemed almost To Be Apart From Herself--A
Vacuous Duplicate Only. The Recent Self Of Physical Animation And
Clear Intentions Was Not There.
Sometimes A Bough From An Adjoining tree Was Swayed so Low As To
Smite The Roof In the Manner Of A Gigantic Hand Smiting the Mouth
Of An Adversary, To Be Followed by A Trickle Of Rain, As Blood
From The Wound. To All This Weather Giles Must Be More Or Less
Exposed; How Much, She Did Not Know.
At Last Grace Could Hardly Endure The Idea Of Such A Hardship In
Relation To Him. Whatever He Was Suffering, It Was She Who Had
Caused it; He Vacated his House On Account Of Her. She Was Not
Worth Such Self-Sacrifice; She Should Not Have Accepted it Of Him.
And Then, As Her Anxiety Increased with Increasing thought, There
Returned upon Her Mind Some Incidents Of Her Late Intercourse With
Him, Which She Had Heeded but Little At The Time. The Look Of His
Face--What Had There Been About His Face Which Seemed different
From Its Appearance As Of Yore? Was It Not Thinner, Less Rich In
Hue, Less Like That Of Ripe Autumn'S Brother To Whom She Had
Formerly Compared him? And His Voice; She Had Distinctly Noticed a
Change In tone. And His Gait; Surely It Had Been Feebler,
Stiffer, More Like The Gait Of A Weary Man. That Slight
Occasional Noise She Had Heard In the Day, And Attributed to
Squirrels, It Might Have Been His Cough After All.
Thus Conviction Took Root In her Perturbed mind That Winterborne
Was Ill, Or Had Been So, And That He Had Carefully Concealed his
Condition From Her That She Might Have No Scruples About Accepting
A Hospitality Which By The Nature Of The Case Expelled her
Entertainer.
"My Own, Own, True L---, My Dear Kind Friend!" She Cried to
Herself. "Oh, It Shall Not Be--It Shall Not Be!"
She Hastily Wrapped herself Up, And Obtained a Light, With Which
She Entered the Adjoining room, The Cot Possessing only One Floor.
Setting down The Candle On The Table Here, She Went To The Door
With The Key In her Hand, And Placed it In the Lock. Before
Turning it She Paused, Her Fingers Still Clutching it; And
Pressing her Other Hand To Her Forehead, She Fell Into Agitating
Thought.
A Tattoo On The Window, Caused by The Tree-Droppings Blowing
Against It, Brought Her Indecision To A Close. She Turned the Key
And Opened the Door.
The Darkness Was Intense, Seeming to Touch Her Pupils Like A
Substance. She Only Now Became Aware How Heavy The Rainfall Had
Been And Was; The Dripping of The Eaves Splashed like A Fountain.
She Stood Listening with Parted lips, And Holding the Door In one
Part 2 Chapter 16 Pg 101Hand, Till Her Eyes, Growing accustomed to The Obscurity,
Discerned the Wild Brandishing of Their Boughs By The Adjoining
Trees. At Last She Cried loudly With An Effort, "Giles! You May
Come In!"
There Was No Immediate Answer To Her Cry, And Overpowered by Her
Own Temerity, Grace Retreated quickly, Shut The Door, And Stood
Looking on The Floor. But It Was Not For Long. She Again Lifted
The Latch, And With Far More Determination Than At First.
"Giles, Giles!" She Cried, With The Full Strength Of Her Voice,
And Without Any Of The Shamefacedness That Had Characterized her
First Cry. "Oh, Come In--Come In! Where Are You? I Have Been
Wicked. I Have Thought Too Much Of Myself! Do You Hear? I Don'T
Want To Keep You Out Any Longer. I Cannot Bear That You Should
Suffer So. Gi-I-Iles!"
A Reply! It Was A Reply! Through The Darkness And Wind A Voice
Reached her, Floating upon The Weather As Though A Part Of It.
"Here I Am--All Right. Don'T Trouble About Me."
"Don'T You Want To Come In? Are You Not Ill? I Don'T Mind What
They Say, Or What They Think Any More."
"I Am All Right," He Repeated. "It Is Not Necessary For Me To
Come. Good-Night! Good-Night!"
Grace Sighed, Turned and Shut The Door Slowly. Could She Have
Been Mistaken About His Health? Perhaps, After All, She Had
Perceived a Change In him Because She Had Not Seen Him For So
Long. Time Sometimes Did His Ageing work In jerks, As She Knew.
Well, She Had Done All She Could. He Would Not Come In. She
Retired to Rest Again.
Part 2 Chapter 17 Pg 102
The Next Morning grace Was At The Window Early. She Felt
Determined to See Him Somehow That Day, And Prepared his Breakfast
Eagerly. Eight O'Clock Struck, And She Had Remembered that He Had
Not Come To Arouse Her By A Knocking, As Usual, Her Own Anxiety
Having caused her To Stir.
The Breakfast Was Set In its Place Without. But He Did Not Arrive
To Take It; And She Waited on. Nine O'Clock Arrived, And The
Breakfast Was Cold; And Still There Was No Giles. A Thrush, That
Had Been Repeating itself A Good Deal On An Opposite Bush For Some
Time, Came And Took A Morsel From The Plate And Bolted it, Waited,
Looked around, And Took Another. At Ten O'Clock She Drew In the
Part 2 Chapter 17 Pg 103Tray, And Sat Down To Her Own Solitary Meal. He Must Have Been
Called away On Business Early, The Rain Having cleared off.
Yet She Would Have Liked to Assure Herself, By Thoroughly
Exploring the Precincts Of The Hut, That He Was Nowhere In its
Vicinity; But As The Day Was Comparatively Fine, The Dread Lest
Some Stray Passenger Or Woodman Should Encounter Her In such A
Reconnoitre Paralyzed her Wish. The Solitude Was Further
Accentuated to-Day By The Stopping of The Clock For Want Of
Winding, And The Fall Into The Chimney-Corner Of Flakes Of Soot
Loosened by The Rains. At Noon She Heard A Slight Rustling
Outside The Window, And Found That It Was Caused by An Eft Which
Had Crept Out Of The Leaves To Bask In the Last Sun-Rays That
Would Be Worth Having till The Following may.
She Continually Peeped out Through The Lattice, But Could See
Little. In front Lay The Brown Leaves Of Last Year, And Upon Them
Some Yellowish-Green Ones Of This Season That Had Been Prematurely
Blown Down By The Gale. Above Stretched an Old Beech, With Vast
Armpits, And Great Pocket-Holes In its Sides Where Branches Had
Been Amputated in past Times; A Black Slug Was Trying to Climb It.
Dead Boughs Were Scattered about Like Ichthyosauri In a Museum,
And Beyond Them Were Perishing woodbine Stems Resembling old
Ropes.
From The Other Window All She Could See Were More Trees, Jacketed
With Lichen And Stockinged with Moss. At Their Roots Were
Stemless Yellow Fungi Like Lemons And Apricots, And Tall Fungi
With More Stem Than Stool. Next Were More Trees Close Together,
Wrestling for Existence, Their Branches Disfigured with Wounds
Resulting from Their Mutual Rubbings And Blows. It Was The
Struggle Between These Neighbors That She Had Heard In the Night.
Beneath Them Were The Rotting stumps Of Those Of The Group That
Had Been Vanquished long Ago, Rising from Their Mossy Setting like
Decayed teeth From Green Gums. Farther On Were Other Tufts Of
Moss In islands Divided by The Shed leaves--Variety Upon Variety,
Dark Green And Pale Green; Moss-Like Little Fir-Trees, Like Plush,
Like Malachite Stars, Like Nothing on Earth Except Moss.
The Strain Upon Grace'S Mind In various Ways Was So Great On This
The Most Desolate Day She Had Passed there That She Felt It Would
Be Well-Nigh Impossible To Spend Another In such Circumstances.
The Evening came At Last; The Sun, When Its Chin Was On The Earth,
Found An Opening through Which To Pierce The Shade, And Stretched
Irradiated gauzes Across The Damp Atmosphere, Making the Wet
Trunks Shine, And Throwing splotches Of Such Ruddiness On The
Leaves Beneath The Beech That They Were Turned to Gory Hues. When
Night At Last Arrived, And With It The Time For His Return, She
Was Nearly Broken Down With Suspense.
The Simple Evening meal, Partly Tea, Partly Supper, Which Grace
Had Prepared, Stood Waiting upon The Hearth; And Yet Giles Did Not
Come. It Was Now Nearly Twenty-Four Hours Since She Had Seen Him.
As The Room Grew Darker, And Only The Firelight Broke Against The
Gloom Of The Walls, She Was Convinced that It Would Be Beyond Her
Staying power To Pass The Night Without Hearing from Him Or From
Somebody. Yet Eight O'Clock Drew On, And His Form At The Window
Did Not Appear.
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