Тесс з роду д’Ербервілей

           “Butthere’snosuchgenuinefolkaboutnowadays!”

           MrsCrick’smindkeptnearertothematterinhand.

           “Perhapssomebodyinthehouseisinlove,”shesaidtentatively.“I’veheardtellinmyyoungerdaysthatthatwillcauseit.Why,Crick—thatmaidwehadyearsago,doyemind,andhowthebutterdidn’tcomethen—”

           “Ahyes,yes!—butthatisn’ttherightso’t.Ithadnothingtodowiththelove-making.Icanmindallaboutit—’twasthedamagetothechurn.”

           HeturnedtoClare.

           “JackDollop,a‘hore’s-birdofafellowwehadhereasmilkeratonetime,sir,courtedayoungwomanoveratMellstock,anddeceivedherashehaddeceivedmanyafore.Buthehadanothersorto’womantoreckonwi’thistime,anditwasnotthegirlherself.OneHolyThursdayofalldaysinthealmanack,wewashereaswemidbenow,onlytherewasnochurninginhand,whenwezidthegirl’smothercominguptothedoor,wi’agreatbrass-mountedumbrellainherhandthatwouldha’felledanox,andsaying‘DoJackDollopworkhere?—becauseIwanthim!Ihaveabigbonetopickwithhe,Icanassure‘n!’AndsomewaybehindhermotherwalkedJack’syoungwoman,cryingbitterlyintoherhandkercher.‘OLard,here’satime!’saidJack,lookingouto’winderat’em.‘She’llmurderme!WhereshallIget—whereshallI—?Don’ttellherwhereIbe!’Andwiththathescrambledintothechurnthroughthetrap-door,andshuthimselfinside,justastheyoungwoman’smotherbustedintothemilk-house.