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TESS OF THE D’URBERVILLES

Poor little Retty, though by far the lightest weight, was the most troublesome of Clare’s burdens. Marian had been like a sack of meal, a dead weight of plumpness under which he had literally staggered. Izz had ridden sensibly and calmly, Retty was a bunch of hysterics.

However, he got through with the disquieted creature, deposited her, and returned. Tess could see over the hedge the distant three in a group, standing as he had placed them on the next rising ground. It was now her turn. She was embarrassed to discover that excitement at the proximity of Mr. Clare’s breath and eyes, which she had contemned in her companions, was intensified in herself; and as if fearful of betraying her secret she paltered with him at the last moment.

‘I may be able to clim’ along the bank perhaps—I can clim’ better than they. You must be so tired, Mr. Clare!’

‘No, no, Tess,’ said he quickly. And almost before she was aware she was seated in his arms and resting against his shoulder.

‘Three Leahs to get one Rachel,’ he whispered.

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