Chapter 59

           ThecityofWintoncester,thatfineoldcity,aforetimecapitalofWessex,layamidstitsconvexandconcavedownlandsinallthebrightnessandwarmthofaJulymorning.Thegabledbrick,tile,andfreestonehouseshadalmostdriedofffortheseasontheirintegumentoflichen,thestreamsinthemeadowswerelow,andintheslopingHighStreet,fromtheWestGatewaytothemediaevalcross,andfromthemediaevalcrosstothebridge,thatleisurelydustingandsweepingwasinprogresswhichusuallyushersinanold-fashionedmarket-day.

           Fromthewesterngateaforesaidthehighway,aseveryWintoncestrianknows,ascendsalongandregularinclineoftheexactlengthofameasuredmile,leavingthehousesgraduallybehind.Upthisroadfromtheprecinctsofthecitytwopersonswerewalkingrapidly,asifunconsciousofthetryingascent—unconsciousthroughpreoccupationandnotthroughbuoyancy.Theyhademergeduponthisroadthroughanarrowbarredwicketinahighwallalittlelowerdown.Theyseemedanxioustogetoutofthesightofthehousesandoftheirkind,andthisroadappearedtoofferthequickestmeansofdoingso.Thoughtheywereyoungtheywalkedwithbowedheads,whichgaitofgriefthesun’srayssmiledonpitilessly.

           OneofthepairwasAngelClare,theotheratallbuddingcreature—halfgirl,halfwoman—aspiritualizedimageofTess,slighterthanshe,butwiththesamebeautifuleyes—Clare’ssister-in-law,‘Liza-Lu.Theirpalefacesseemedtohaveshrunktohalftheirnaturalsize.