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Updated: June 20, 2025
A grotesque grin shaped itself on Henchard's face. Had that safe been opened? On the very evening which followed this there was a great ringing of bells in Casterbridge, and the combined brass, wood, catgut, and leather bands played round the town with more prodigality of percussion-notes than ever.
Indeed, her present position was so different from that of the young woman of Henchard's story as of itself to be sufficient to blind him absolutely to her identity. As for Henchard, he was reassured by Farfrae's words and manner against a suspicion which had crossed his mind. They were not those of a conscious rival. Yet that there was rivalry by some one he was firmly persuaded.
The gig and its driver lessened against the sky in Henchard's eyes; his exertions for Farfrae's good had been in vain. Over this repentant sinner, at least, there was to be no joy in heaven. He cursed himself like a less scrupulous Job, as a vehement man will do when he loses self-respect, the last mental prop under poverty.
Her heart fluttered when she heard of this step of Donald's, proving that he meant to remain; and yet, would a man who cared one little bit for her have endangered his suit by setting up a business in opposition to Mr. Henchard's? Surely not; and it must have been a passing impulse only which had led him to address her so softly.
Its producer's personal goodness, if he had any, would be of a very fitful cast an occasional almost oppressive generosity rather than a mild and constant kindness. Susan Henchard's husband in law, at least sat before them, matured in shape, stiffened in line, exaggerated in traits; disciplined, thought-marked in a word, older.
"Yes," she said at last, bringing down her palm upon the sill with a pat: "HE is the second man of that story she told me!" All this time Henchard's smouldering sentiments towards Lucetta had been fanned into higher and higher inflammation by the circumstances of the case.
He had not sat there long when a gentle footstep approached the house and entered the passage, a finger tapping lightly at the door. Henchard's face brightened, for he knew the motions to be Elizabeth's. She came into his room, looking wan and sad. "Have you heard?" she asked. "Mrs. Farfrae! She is dead! Yes, indeed about an hour ago!" "I know it," said Henchard.
In feeling this she herself forgot for the moment her partially justifying argument that having discovered Henchard's infirmities of temper, she had some excuse for not risking her happiness in his hands after once escaping them. The only thing she could say was, "I was a poor girl then; and now my circumstances have altered, so I am hardly the same person." "That's true.
The meeting, in truth, was of a very innocent kind, and matters were by no means so far advanced between the young people as Henchard's jealous grief inferred. Could he have heard such conversation as passed he would have been enlightened thus much: HE. "You like walking this way, Miss Henchard and is it not so?" SHE. "O yes. I have chosen this road latterly. I have no great reason for it."
A murmur apparently came from Henchard's lips in which she detected the words, "You refused to see me!" reproachfully addressed to Lucetta. She could not believe that they had been uttered by her stepfather; unless, indeed, they might have been spoken to one of the yellow-gaitered farmers near them.
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