Вдалині від божевільного натовпу

VI. The Fair—The Journey—The Fire

           

           "She’saveryvainfeymellso’tissaidhereandthere."

           "Ah,now.Ifsobe’tislikethat,Ican’tlookherintheface.Lord,no:notIheh-heh-heh!SuchashymanasIbe!"

           "Yesshe’sveryvain.’Tissaidthateverynightatgoingtobedshelooksintheglasstoputonhernight-capproperly."

           "Andnotamarriedwoman.Oh,theworld!"

           "And’acanplaythepeanner,so’tissaid.Canplaysocleverthat’acanmakeapsalmtunesoundaswellasthemerriestloosesongamancanwishfor."

           "D’yetello’t!Ahappytimeforus,andIfeelquiteanewman!Andhowdoshepay?"

           "ThatIdon’tknow,MasterPoorgrass."

           Onhearingtheseandothersimilarremarks,awildthoughtflashedintoGabriel’smindthattheymightbespeakingofBathsheba.Therewere,however,nogroundsforretainingsuchasupposition,forthewaggon,thoughgoinginthedirectionofWeatherbury,mightbegoingbeyondit,andthewomanalludedtoseemedtobethemistressofsomeestate.TheywerenowapparentlycloseuponWeatherburyandnottoalarmthespeakersunnecessarily,Gabrielslippedoutofthewaggonunseen.

           Heturnedtoanopeninginthehedge,whichhefoundtobeagate,andmountingthereon,hesatmeditatingwhethertoseekacheaplodginginthevillage,ortoensureacheaperonebylyingundersomehayorcorn-stack.Thecrunchingjangleofthewaggondieduponhisear.Hewasabouttowalkon,whenhenoticedonhislefthandanunusuallightappearingabouthalfamiledistant.Oakwatchedit,andtheglowincreased.Somethingwasonfire.

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