Повернення на батьківщину

VIII. Rain, Darkness, and Anxious Wanderers

           “ItisThomasin,andonsuchanightasthis!O,whereisEustacia?”

           Thomasinitwas,wet,frightened,andpanting.

           “Eustacia?Idon’tknow,Clym;butIcanthink,”shesaidwithmuchperturbation.“Letmecomeinandrest—Iwillexplainthis.Thereisagreattroublebrewing—myhusbandandEustacia!”

           “What,what?”

           “Ithinkmyhusbandisgoingtoleavemeordosomethingdreadful—Idon’tknowwhat—Clym,willyougoandsee?Ihavenobodytohelpmebutyou;Eustaciahasnotyetcomehome?”

           “No.”

           Shewentonbreathlessly:“Thentheyaregoingtorunofftogether!Hecameindoorstonightabouteighto’clockandsaidinanoff-handway,’Tamsie,IhavejustfoundthatImustgoajourney.’’When?’Isaid.’Tonight,’hesaid.’Where?’Iaskedhim.’Icannottellyouatpresent,’hesaid;’Ishallbebackagaintomorrow.’Hethenwentandbusiedhimselfinlookinguphisthings,andtooknonoticeofmeatall.Iexpectedtoseehimstart,buthedidnot,andthenitcametobeteno’clock,whenhesaid,’Youhadbettergotobed.’Ididn’tknowwhattodo,andIwenttobed.IbelievehethoughtIfellasleep,forhalfanhourafterthathecameupandunlockedtheoakchestwekeepmoneyinwhenwehavemuchinthehouseandtookoutarollofsomethingwhichIbelievewasbanknotes,thoughIwasnotawarethathehad’emthere.Thesehemusthavegotfromthebankwhenhewenttheretheotherday.

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