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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 439 pages of information about Tess of the d'Urbervilles.

Except the hall, the rooms were all in darkness, and they ascended the staircase.  Up here also the shutters were tightly closed, the ventilation being perfunctorily done, for this day at least, by opening the hall-window in front and an upper window behind.  Clare unlatched the door of a large chamber, felt his way across it, and parted the shutters to the width of two or three inches.  A shaft of dazzling sunlight glanced into the room, revealing heavy, old-fashioned furniture, crimson damask hangings, and an enormous four-post bedstead, along the head of which were carved running figures, apparently Atalanta’s race.

“Rest at last!” said he, setting down his bag and the parcel of viands.

They remained in great quietness till the caretaker should have come to shut the windows:  as a precaution, putting themselves in total darkness by barring the shutters as before, lest the woman should open the door of their chamber for any casual reason.  Between six and seven o’clock she came, but did not approach the wing they were in.  They heard her close the windows, fasten them, lock the door, and go away.  Then Clare again stole a chink of light from the window, and they shared another meal, till by-and-by they were enveloped in the shades of night which they had no candle to disperse.

LVIII

The night was strangely solemn and still.  In the small hours she whispered to him the whole story of how he had walked in his sleep with her in his arms across the Froom stream, at the imminent risk of both their lives, and laid her down in the stone coffin at the ruined abbey.  He had never known of that till now.

“Why didn’t you tell me next day?” he said.  “It might have prevented much misunderstanding and woe.”

“Don’t think of what’s past!” said she.  “I am not going to think outside of now.  Why should we!  Who knows what to-morrow has in store?”

But it apparently had no sorrow.  The morning was wet and foggy, and Clare, rightly informed that the caretaker only opened the windows on fine days, ventured to creep out of their chamber and explore the house, leaving Tess asleep.  There was no food on the premises, but there was water, and he took advantage of the fog to emerge from the mansion and fetch tea, bread, and butter from a shop in a little place two miles beyond, as also a small tin kettle and spirit-lamp, that they might get fire without smoke.  His re-entry awoke her; and they breakfasted on what he had brought.

They were indisposed to stir abroad, and the day passed, and the night following, and the next, and next; till, almost without their being aware, five days had slipped by in absolute seclusion, not a sight or sound of a human being disturbing their peacefulness, such as it was.  The changes of the weather were their only events, the birds of the New Forest their only company.  By tacit consent they hardly once spoke of any incident of the past subsequent to their wedding-day.  The gloomy intervening time seemed to sink into chaos, over which the present and prior times closed as if it never had been.  Whenever he suggested that they should leave their shelter, and go forwards towards Southampton or London, she showed a strange unwillingness to move.

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