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L. The Sheep Fair—Troy Touches His Wife's Hand

           ThatBathshebacouldnotendurethismanwasevident;infact,hewascontinuallycomingtoherwithsometaleorother,bywhichhemightcreepintofavourattheexpenseofpersonsmaligned.

           "I’llwriteitdown,"saidPennyways,confidently.Hestoopedoverthetable,pulledaleaffromawarpedpocket-book,andwroteuponthepaper,inaroundhand

           "Yourhusbandishere.I’veseenhim.Who’sthefoolnow?"

           Thishefoldedsmall,andhandedtowardsher.Bathshebawouldnotreadit;shewouldnotevenputoutherhandtotakeit.Pennyways,then,withalaughofderision,tosseditintoherlap,and,turningaway,lefther.

           FromthewordsandactionofPennyways,Troy,thoughhehadnotbeenabletoseewhattheex-bailiffwrote,hadnotamoment’sdoubtthatthenotereferredtohim.Nothingthathecouldthinkofcouldbedonetochecktheexposure."Cursemyluck!"hewhispered,andaddedimprecationswhichrustledinthegloomlikeapestilentwind.MeanwhileBoldwoodsaid,takingupthenotefromherlap

           "Don’tyouwishtoreadit,Mrs.Troy?Ifnot,I’lldestroyit."

           "Oh,well,"saidBathsheba,carelessly,"perhapsitisunjustnottoreadit;butIcanguesswhatitisabout.Hewantsmetorecommendhim,oritistotellmeofsomelittlescandaloranotherconnectedwithmywork-people.He’salwaysdoingthat."

           Bathshebaheldthenoteinherrighthand.Boldwoodhandedtowardsheraplateofcutbread-and-butter;when,inordertotakeaslice,sheputthenoteintoherlefthand,whereshewasstillholdingthepurse,andthenallowedherhandtodropbesideherclosetothecanvas.

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