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XXXIV. Home Again—A Trickster

           "

           "Oh,howcanshebesavednow,unlessImarryher?"

           Boldwoodgroaned.Hereluctantlyreleasedthesoldier,andflunghimbackagainstthehedge."Devil,youtortureme!"saidhe.

           Troyreboundedlikeaball,andwasabouttomakeadashatthefarmer;buthecheckedhimself,sayinglightly

           "Itisnotworthwhiletomeasuremystrengthwithyou.Indeeditisabarbarouswayofsettlingaquarrel.Ishallshortlyleavethearmybecauseofthesameconviction.NowafterthatrevelationofhowthelandlieswithBathsheba,’twouldbeamistaketokillme,woulditnot?"

           "’Twouldbeamistaketokillyou,"repeatedBoldwood,mechanically,withabowedhead.

           "Betterkillyourself."

           "Farbetter."

           "I’mgladyouseeit."

           "Troy,makeheryourwife,anddon’tactuponwhatIarrangedjustnow.Thealternativeisdreadful,buttakeBathsheba;Igiveherup!Shemustloveyouindeedtosellsoulandbodytoyousoutterlyasshehasdone.Wretchedwomandeludedwomanyouare,Bathsheba!"

           "ButaboutFanny?"

           "Bathshebaisawomanwelltodo,"continuedBoldwood,innervousanxiety,"and,Troy,shewillmakeagoodwife;and,indeed,sheisworthyourhasteningonyourmarriagewithher!"

           "Butshehasawillnottosayatemper,andIshallbeamereslavetoher.IcoulddoanythingwithpoorFannyRobin."

           "Troy,"saidBoldwood,imploringly,"I’lldoanythingforyou,onlydon’tdeserther;praydon’tdeserther,Troy."

           "Which,poorFanny?"

           "No;BathshebaEverdene.

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