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III. She Goes Out to Battle against Depression

           

           “Goodnight,Mr.Yeobright,”saidVenn.“Ihopetoseeyoubettersoon.”

           ThemoonlightshonedirectlyuponVenn’sfaceashespoke,andrevealedallitslinestoEustacia.Hewaslookingsuspiciouslyather.ThatVenn’skeeneyehaddiscernedwhatYeobright’sfeeblevisionhadnot—amanintheactofwithdrawingfromEustacia’sside—waswithinthelimitsoftheprobable.

           IfEustaciahadbeenabletofollowthereddlemanshewouldsoonhavefoundstrikingconfirmationofherthought.NosoonerhadClymgivenherhisarmandledheroffthescenethanthereddlemanturnedbackfromthebeatentracktowardsEastEgdon,whitherhehadbeenstrollingmerelytoaccompanyClyminhiswalk,Diggory’svanbeingagainintheneighbourhood.Stretchingouthislonglegs,hecrossedthepathlessportionoftheheathsomewhatinthedirectionwhichWildevehadtaken.OnlyamanaccustomedtonocturnalramblescouldatthishourhavedescendedthoseshaggyslopeswithVenn’svelocitywithoutfallingheadlongintoapit,orsnappingoffhislegbyjamminghisfootintosomerabbitburrow.ButVennwentonwithoutmuchinconveniencetohimself,andthecourseofhisscamperwastowardstheQuietWomanInn.Thisplacehereachedinabouthalfanhour,andhewaswellawarethatnopersonwhohadbeennearThroopeCornerwhenhestartedcouldhavegotdownherebeforehim.

           Thelonelyinnwasnotyetclosed,thoughscarcelyanindividualwasthere,thebusinessdonebeingchieflywithtravellerswhopassedtheinnonlongjourneys,andthesehadnowgoneontheirway.

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