"Tess! Can I believe this? Are you mad perhaps? My wife, my Tess -- you aren't mad, are you?"

Her story came to an end. She had not raised her voice: she had not cried. But things seemed to change as the story progressed. The fire looked as if it was laughing at her troubles. All the objects around her appeared not to care about her tragic history. And yet it was only a short time since he had been kissing her. Everything looked different now.

Clare stirred the fire. It was unnecessary, but he felt he had to do something. He had not really taken in the whole story yet. He stood up. Now as he began to understand the story in its full horror, his face was like an old man's. He made uncertain movements, because everything in his head was vague and uncertain. He could not make himself think clearly.

He was talking but could not think at the same time. His brain seemed to have stopped working. He turned away from her. Tess followed him and stood there staring at him with dry eyes. Then she went down on her knees beside him.

"I am not," she said.

"And yet," he said, looking strangely at her, "why didn't you tell me before? Oh yes, you would have told me, in a way, but I stopped you, I remember!"

And as he did not answer, she said again,

"Oh, Tess, it's not a question of forgiveness! You were one person, now you are another. How can forgiveness put that right?"

"I thought, Angel, that you loved me -- me, my very self! If you do love me, how can you treat me like this? It frightens me! Having begun to love you, I will love you for ever, in all changes, in all troubles, because you are yourself. I ask no more. Then how can you, my husband, stop loving me?"

"I know that."

"Forgive me as you are forgiven! I forgive you, Angel!"

"But you do not forgive me?"

"In the name of our love, forgive me!" she whispered with a 168 dry mouth. "I have forgiven you for the same!"

He paused, considering this. Then suddenly he started laughing in an unnatural, horrible way. It was like a laugh out of hell.

"Don't -- don't!" she cried, her face dead white. "It kills me, that laugh! Angel, do you know what you're doing to me? I've been hoping, longing, praying to make you happy!"

"You -- yes, you do."

"I repeat, the woman I have been loving is not you."

"I don't belong to you any more then, do I, Angel?" she asked helplessly. And at last the tears came. Clare watched her sobbing, and waited until the first violence of her emotion had passed.

"Another woman in your shape."

"I haven't had time to think what we should do."

"But who is she?"

Suddenly she realized how he saw her. For him she was a guilty woman pretending to be an innocent one. There was terror in her white face as she saw this. She could not stand, and he stepped forward, thinking she might fall.

"Sit down," he said gently. "You are ill, and I am not surprised."

"Angel," she said suddenly in a normal voice, "am I too wicked for us to live together?"

She sat down, her face still full of fear and her eyes wild.

"I won't ask you to let me live with you, Angel, because I have no right to! I won't write to tell my family we are married, as I said I would."

"Won't you?"

"No, I won't do anything unless you order me to. And if you go away, I won't follow you. And if you never speak to me again, I won't ask why, unless you tell me I can."

Clare's bitter words, however, were not fully understood by Tess. She only knew that he was angry with her. She stood silent, not knowing that he was struggling with his love for her She did not observe a large tear rolling slowly down his cheek He was realizing what a change Tess's confession had made to his whole life. He had to decide on some action.

"And if I order you to do anything?"

"How good of you. But it seems you have changed. In the past you were keen to look after yourself. Now you are keen to sacrifice yourself."

"Tess," he said, as gently as he could, "I can't stay here just now. I'm going out."

He quietly left the room. Two glasses of wine, ready for their supper, remained untouched on the table. Only two or three hours earlier they had drunk tea from the same cup.

"I'll obey you, even if I have to lie down and die."

As he closed the door behind him, Tess jumped up. He had gone: she could not stay. She put out the candles and followed him The rain was over and the night was now clear.

Clare walked slowly and without purpose. His shape was black and frightening She walked just behind him. There was water on the road, where the stars could be seen reflected. Away from the house the road went through the fields. She followed Clare as a dog follows its owner.

"Then won't you forgive me?"

He did not answer this question.

"H'm, well. No, maybe you would not, but you are not the same. No, not the same But don't make me blame you."

"And do you love me?"

"What have I done? Nothing interferes with my love for you. You don't think I planned it, Angel, do you? I would not deceive you like that!"

"I admit it was not so much your fault as his."

Eventually Tess could not help speaking to him.

She went on begging for forgiveness. Perhaps she said things that would have been better left to silence.

"Oh Angel-my mother says she knows several cases which were worse than mine, and the husband has not minded much…well, he has accepted it at least. And in those cases the woman hasn't loved him as I love you!"

"Don't, Tess, don't argue. Those are just country people's ways. There is a correct way of doing things. I think that parson who discovered you were a D'Urberville should have kept quiet. Perhaps you were weak and could not refuse this man because your ancient noble blood has run thin, because your family is no good any more. I thought you were a child of nature, but you have the worst of your ancient family in you!"

"I do forgive you, but forgiveness isn't everything."

"Angel! Angel! I was a child when it happened. I knew nothing of men."

They went on again in silence. They walked slowly for hours, with sad anxious faces, not talking, one behind the other, like a funeral procession. Tess said to her husband:

"Don't talk like that. Do what I ask, go back to the house and go to bed."

"I don't want to cause you sadness all your life. The river is down there. I can put an end to myself in it. I'm not afraid."

Tess accepted his bitterness, not understanding the details. He did not love her as he had done, and nothing else mattered.

"I will," she said obediently.

As she had nothing more to fear, and nothing more to hope for, she lay down. In a few moments lonely Tess was asleep, in the bedroom once used by the young wives of her ancestor.

When she returned to the house, she found everything as they had left it and the fire still burning She went to the bedroom. There was a mistletoe branch hanging above the bed. Now she understood why Angel had brought a strange parcel with him. It was to surprise her. He had delightedly hung it there. Now it looked foolish and out of place.

Later on that night Clare also came back to the house. He prepared a bed downstairs, but crept shoeless upstairs to see if Tess was asleep. He was relieved to see her sleeping deeply. And yet he felt he alone had the whole worry of what action to take, and the responsibility for her life as well as his. He turned away from her door, and then turned back again, pulled by his love for her. But his eye was caught by a painting on the wall of one of Tess's ancestors, a proud fierce woman, who looked as if she hated and wanted to deceive all men. He thought she and Tess looked alike. That was enough to stop him, and he went downstairs to his lonely bed.

He looked calm and cold, full of self-control. His face showed he had fought against passion and won, but did not like being the winner. He still found it difficult to accept that Tess, the pure village maiden, was not what she seemed. How unexpected life could be! He put out the candle. The night came in, unconcerned and uninterested, the night which had swallowed up his happiness.

When the cleaning woman came, he sent her away, not wanting a third person in the house He found wood to make a fire, and prepared breakfast. People passing the farmhouse saw the smoke rising from the chimney, and envied the newly- married couple in their happiness.

Tess came down immediately. She was already dressed, but her hands and face were cold. She had no fire in her bedroom, where she had been sitting waiting for his call, and staring at the dying mistletoe. Clare's polite words gave her a moment of hope, which died, however, when she saw his face.

When Clare woke up the next morning, the sky was grey and the sun was not shining. The fireplace in the room was full of cold ashes. The two full glasses of wine still stood untouched on the table.

"Breakfast is ready!" he called upstairs in a normal voice.

They were both, in fact, the ashes of their former fires. After last night's passionate sorrow, they both felt heavy and lacking in energy.

Tess went up to Angel, touching him lightly with her fingers. Was this really the man who once loved her? Her eyes were bright, her cheeks still round, but her lips were pale. She looked absolutely pure. Angel looked at her in wonder. "Tess! Say it isn't true! It can't be true!"

"Is he in England?"

Tess understood his feelings perfectly. She saw that he had lost in every way.

"The baby died."

"But the man?"

"He is alive."

Despair passed over Clare's face. He moved vaguely around the room.

"You can divorce me."

"Angel -- I would not have married you if I had not known that, after all, there is a way out for you… only I hoped you would never…" She was close to tears.

"Every word?"

"Every word."

"Is he living?" asked Angel.

"Good heavens! How can you be so stupid? How can I divorce you?"

He world almost have preferred her to lie, so that he could believe her blindly, but she repeated, "It is true."

"Yes."

"A way out?"

"It is true."

"Look," he said, "I thought -- any man would have thought-that if I didn't look for knowledge, good family, and wealth in a wife, if I sacrificed all that, I would be sure of finding a country girl who was at least pure… but… but I should not accuse you."

"Can't you, now I have told you everything?"

"Oh Tess, you are so childish! You don't understand the law. No, I can't."

"The courage to do what?" he asked.

There was shame and misery in Tess's face.

"Where?"

"I thought you could," she whispered. "Don't think I planned this! I really believed you could take that way out. Oh, then I ought to have done it last night. But I didn't have the courage. That's just like me!"

Clare was shaken by this unexpected confession.

"To put an end to myself."

"In the bedroom, under your mistletoe. With the rope from my box. But I couldn't in the end! I was afraid that people would talk and you would suffer from that."

"Now, listen. You must never think of such a wicked thing again. Promise me as your husband never to do anything like that."

"I promise. I see it was wicked. But, Angel, it was to set you free, and to avoid a divorce, which everyone would talk about. But dying by my own hand is too good for me. You, my husband, should kill me. I think I would love you more, if that were possible, if you could bring yourself to do it. I am so much in your way!"

"Quiet! Don't talk about it."

She turned her back on him, sobbing as if her heart would break. It would have won round any man but Angel Clare. Deep in him lay a hard logic, which had resisted the Church, and now resisted Tess. She accepted his treatment of her as being what she deserved. She would never have thought of criticizing his hardness. To her he was still perfection.

"What do you mean, Tess? You are my wife, of course."

"Well, just as you wish. I will do whatever you like." They sat down to breakfast, tired and sad. They did not look at each other and they did not eat much. Angel left soon afterwards to start his studies at the flour-mill nearby. Tess cleared the ashes from the fireplace, cleaned the house and prepared the lunch, waiting for his return. At lunch they talked politely of work at the flour-mill and methods of milling. In the afternoon he went back to the mill, and in the evening he studied his books and papers. Tess felt she was in his way and went to the kitchen. He came to find her there.

She looked happier. "You mean, I can think of myself as that?" She asked, trembling.

"Don't work in the kitchen like this," he said. "You're not my servant, you're my wife."

"I don't know," she said, with tears in her eyes. "I told you long ago I wasn't good enough for you. And I'm not good enough! I was right! But you persuaded me!"

"No. How can we live together as man and wife while that man lives? He is your natural husband, I'm not. If he were dead, that might be different. Anyway, have you thought of the future? have you thought we might have children? They would find out about this. Everybody would talk about it. Can you imagine them growing up under a cloud like that? They would hate you for it."

Another day passed by in the same way. Only once did Tess try to get closer to her husband. As he was leaving for the flour-mill, she put up her mouth to be kissed. He ignored the invitation, and said goodbye coldly. She felt as if he had hit her. How often had he wanted to kiss her in those happy days at Talbothays!

But on his way to the mill Angel regretted his coldness. He wished he had been kinder to her and kissed her once at least.

So they lived through another day-together in the same house, but more separately than ever before. Clare was desperately wondering what to do. Tess no longer even hoped for forgiveness. That evening she said bravely:

"I suppose you aren't going to live with me long, are you, Angel?" She found it difficult to control the muscles of her face.

Tess's head was bent. Her eyes felt so heavy they were almost closed. "No, I can't ask you to stay with me," she whispered. "I hadn't thought of it like that."

She could have argued that if they went as planned to farm in another country, nobody would know about her past. But perhaps she was right not to argue. A woman knows not only her own sorrow but also her husband's. He might keep the bitterness alive in his heart, even if nobody knew or talked about it at all. She had lost.

She had hoped, as women do, that living together for a time would break down his coldness. Being near him every day was her only hope of winning him back. But she had never imagined she might have children who would reject her. She now remembered how she had criticized her mother for bringing babies into the world without being able to look after them. She realized that she might have made the same mistake as Joan Durbeyfield. She completely accepted Angel's argument.

On the third day she said, "I accept what you say. We must separate."

Clare had not thought of that. "Can you really?"

"I can go home."

"Yes. If I am with you all the time, I may persuade you to stay, against your better judgement. Then you and I would both be sorry. I must go."

"But what can you do?"

"Right," said Angel. His face was pale but his voice was determined.

"I didn't like to suggest it," he said, "but as you have, I think it's a good idea to part -- at least for a while. God knows, we may come togetner again one day!"

Tess was slightly shocked. He had agreed so quickly to her generous offer!

These words, which he would never say when awake, were very sweet to Tess. She would not have moved to save her life. She lay in absolute stillness, trying not to breathe, wondering what he was going to do with her. Her trust in him was complete.

So they both prepared to leave the following day. That night Tess was woken by a noise in the house. At first she thought Angel was coming to her bedroom, and her heart beat wildly with joy. But then she saw his eyes staring emptily ahead of him, and knew he was walking in his sleep. He came to the middle of her room and said very sadly, "Dead! Dead! Dead! Poor darling Tess! So sweet, so good, so pure! My wife, dead!"

As they crossed, the water rushed fiercely below them. If Tess had moved in his arms, they would both have fallen into the dangerous water. But she had no right to take his life, although her own was worthless, so she stayed still.

He continued downstairs, taking her out of the house towards the river. She had given herself totally up to him, and did not care what happened to her as long as she was with him. They arrived at a place where the river was fast and deep, and Angel started to cross it on the narrow footbridge, still holding Tess. Perhaps he wanted to drown her. Even that would be better than separation.

Angel walked purposefully towards a ruined church near the river. Against the old wall was an empty stone tomb. In this he carefully laid Tess, and kissing her lips, sighed deeply and happily. He immediately lay down on the ground next to the tomb, and looked fast asleep.

He picked her up and carried her to the stairs. Was he going to throw her down? She knew he was leaving her the next day, perhaps for ever. She almost hoped they would fall and die together.

Tess stepped out of the tomb and managed to persuade Angel to walk back to the house, without waking him. It was very cold outside, and both had only night clothes on. She helped him to his sofa bed in the living room, and he still did not wake up.

"Now remember," he said, "I am not angry with you, but I cannot bear to live with you at the moment. I will try to accept it. But until I come to you, you should not try to come to me."

Next morning he seemed to remember nothing of the night's experiences, and Tess did not refer to his sleepwalking. They finished packing and left the farmhouse, where they had hoped to be so happy. After driving some distance Angel stopped the carriage to get down and continue on foot. Tess was going further on in the carriage. He spoke seriously to her as they separated.

"May I write to you?"

"Oh yes, if you are ill or need anything. You probably won't, so I might be the first to write."

The punishment seemed a heavy one to Tess. Had she really deserved this?

"I agree to the conditions, Angel, because you know best. Only don't make it too much for me to bear!"

That was all she said. If she had sobbed or fainted or begged him, he would probably have given way. But she made it easy for him. He gave her some money and they said goodbye. He stood on the road watching the carnage continue up the hill, secretly hoping that Tess would look back. But she was lying half dead with misery inside. He turned to walk on alone, not realizing that he still loved her.

As the carriage drove on through Blackmoor Vale, Tess now began to awake from her sorrow and wonder how she could face her parents. She left the carriage and came into Marlott on foot. When she entered the little cottage, her mother was doing the washing as usual.

"Why Tess!" she cried when she saw her daughter. "I thought you were married! Really married this time!"

"Yes, mother, I am."

"Then where's your husband?"

"Gone away for a time."

"Gone away! When were you married then? Tuesday, as you said?"

"Yes, mother."

"Married on Tuesday and today it's only Saturday, and he's gone away! What strange husbands you seem to find, Tess!"

"Mother!" Tess ran across to Joan and put her head on Joan's shoulder. "You told me I mustn't tell him. But I did-I couldn't help it -- and he went away!"

"I know, I know," sobbed Tess. "But he was so good! I couldn't lie to him. And if only you knew how much I loved him and how much I wanted to marry him!"

"Oh you fool, you little fool!" cried her mother.

"Well, it's too late now," said Mrs Durbeyfield. "Whatever will your father say? He was very proud of your marriage. He's been telling them at the public house that you'll help his noble family become great again. Oh, there he is now!"

Tess ran upstairs, but through the thin walls she could hear the whole story being told to Sir John.

"People will laugh at me in the village!" he said. "Do you think he really did marry her, Joan? Or is it like the first?"

Tess could listen no more. Even her own family did not believe her. She could not stay. She gave her mother half the money which Clare had given her, and told her family she was going to join him. And so she left Marlott again, looking for work.

Angel Clare also returned home. He had spent three weeks since his wedding trying to remain calm and continue his studies, but with the disturbing picture of Tess always in his mind. He was beginning to wonder if he had treated her unfairly. She had been so much a part of his plans for the future that he was now thinking of countries where they could farm together. The idea of Brazil attracted him. The countryside, people and habits would be so different. Perhaps they could make a new life there together. So he went back to Emminster to tell his parents his new plan.

"But where's your wife, dear Angel?" cried his mother when he arrived.

"She's at her mother's for the moment. I've come home in rather a hurry, because I've decided to go to Brazil."

"Brazil! But they're all Roman Catholics there!"

But Mr and Mrs Clare were even more interested in their son's marriage than in Brazil's religion.

"Angel, we do want to meet your wife. We are not in the least angry about this rather hurried wedding, so why haven't you brought her? It seems strange."

"Are they? I hadn't thought of that."

"And a maiden of course?"

"I imagine you were her first love?"

"Is she very pretty?"

"Of course."

"We shall all think of her as your father reads it," added his mother. As they listened to the ancient, beautiful words, Angel felt like crying.

Angel explained that she would be staying at her mother's while he went to Brazil alone to see if the country was suitable. He planned to bring her to meet his parents before he went there a second time, with her. But his mother was disappointed at not seeing Tess. She watched her son as he ate, and asked questions.

"Exactly."

His father asked no questions, but when the moment for evening prayers arrived, he chose a passage from the Bible.

"This passage is very suitable, as you are here, Angel. It is in praise of a pure wife."

"She certainly is!"

His mother said, "You see, Angel, the perfect woman, the Bible tells us, is a working woman, not a fine lady, a girl just like your wife. A girl who uses her hands and heart and head for others. I wish I could have met her, Angel. As she is pure, she is fine enough for me."

"She is totally pure!" he replied, and felt that he had to tell that lie, even if he went to hell there and then for it.

"Angel, why are you going away so soon? Have you quarrelled with your wife in these three weeks? Angel, is she…is she a woman with a past?" The mother's instinct had found the cause of her son's worries.

Clare's eyes were full of tears. He quickly said goodnight and went to his room. His mother followed and stood at his door looking anxiously at him.

Clare felt furious with Tess, because she had forced him to deceive his parents. Then he remembered her sweet voice, and the touch of her fingers on his face, and her warm breath on his lips. But this well-meaning young man, despite his advanced ideas, was still limited in his thinking. He could not see that Tess was in character as pure as the pure wife in the Bible.

"Then never mind the rest. There are few better things in nature than a pure country girl."

The next day Clare left Emminster and began to prepare for his journey to Brazil. One day, returning from doing some business with a farmer, he happened to meet one of the dairymaids from Talbothays, Izz Huett. He knew her secret: she was an honest girl who loved him and who might have made as good a farmer's wife as Tess. He learnt from Izz that, of the other dairymaids, Retty had become ill, and Marian had started drinking. And Izz herself?

"You know it's wrong in the eyes of the world, don't you? Do you love me very much? More than Tess?"

A wild anger took hold of Clare. Society and its rules had trapped him in a corner. Why shouldn't he take his revenge on society?

"Yes, I will," said Izz after a pause.

"I do, yes, oh, I do love you, but not more than Tess. Nobody could! She would have laid down her life for you."

"I would have said 'yes', and you would have had a woman who loved you!"

"I'm sorry, Izz," he said suddenly. "Please forget what I said just now! I must be mad!"

Clare was silent. A sob rose inside him. He heard Izz's words again and again in his head: She would have laid down her life for you.

"Suppose I had asked you to marry me, Izz?" he asked.

"Oh please take me! Oh, I shouldn't have been so honest!" sobbed Izz.

"I'm going to Brazil, Izz, without Tess. We have separated for personal reasons. I may never be able to love you, but will you come with me?"

"Izz, by your honesty you have saved me from doing something wicked. Thank you for that. And please forgive me!"

And so Angel said goodbye to the miserable girl. But he did not turn towards Tess's village. He continued with his plan, and five days later left the country for Brazil.

They wrote to Izz, asking her to join them if she had no other work. It was the coldest winter for years, but Tess and Marian had to go on working in the snow. Tess realized that the farmer was the same Trantridge man who had recognized her in the market town, and had been knocked down by Angel. He made her work twice as hard as the others.

And so the months passed. Tess found occasional dairy work for the spring and summer. She sent all Angel's money to her family, who as usual had many expenses and hardly any income. She was too proud to ask Angel's family for more money. That winter she went to work at another farm, where Marian was working. Here the earth was poor, and the work was difficult. But Tess did not mind the hard work in the fields. As she and Marian dug out the vegetables in the pouring rain, they talked of Talbothays and of the sunny green fields and of Angel Clare. Tess did not tell Marian everything, so Marian could not understand why the couple were apart.

When Izz came, Tess saw her whispering to Marian. Tess had a feeling it was important. "Is it about my husband?" she asked Marian later.

Tess's face went as white as the snow on the ground.

"Well yes, Izz said I shouldn't tell. But he asked her to run away to Brazil with him!"

"What happened?"

"He changed his mind. But he was going to take her!"

But in the evening, in her room, she could not finish her letter to him. She looked at her wedding ring, which she wore round her neck in the day, and kept on her finger all night. What kind of husband would ask Izz to go to Brazil with him so soon after parting from his wife?

Tess burst out crying. "I must write to him! It's my fault! I shouldn't have left it to him! He said I could write to him! I've been neglecting him!"

But this new information made her think again of visiting Angel's family in Emminster. She wanted to know why he had not written to her. She could meet his parents, who would surely be kind to her in her loneliness. So she decided to walk there from the farm at Flintcomb-Ash on a Sunday, her only free day. It was fifteen miles each way. She dressed in her best, encouraged by Marian and Izz, who sent her on her way at four o'clock in the morning. The girls sincerely loved Tess and wished for her happiness. It was a year since her wedding, and on that bright cold morning her unspoken hope was to win over her husband's family and so persuade him back to her.

She took a deep breath and rang the bell at the parson's house. Nobody answered. She tried again. Silence. It was almost with relief that she turned and walked away. Then she suddenly remembered that they must all be at church. So she waited in a quiet part of the street until people began to stream out of church. She immediately recognized Angel's brothers and even overheard some of their conversation.

Although she started cheerfully, she began to lose her courage as she approached Emminster. The church looked forbidding. Perhaps the rather strict parson would not approve of her travelling so far on a Sunday. But she had to go on. She took off her thick walking boots and hid them behind a tree, changing into her pretty shoes. She would collect the boots on the way out of town.

"It's certainly very strange. But his ideas have always been most odd."

"Poor Angel!" one of them said. "There's that nice girl, Mercy Chant. Why on earth didn't he marry her instead of rushing into marriage with a dairymaid?"

They joined Mercy Chant as she came out of church, and walked together along the road Tess had walked into Emminster.

Tess walked quickly past them, tears running down her face. She continued walking as fast as she could away from Emminster. How unlucky that she had met the sons and not the father! Angel's parents would have taken poor lonely Tess to their hearts immediately, as they did every other lost soul, without thought of family or education or wealth.

She grew more and more tired and depressed as she walked the fifteen miles back to Flintcomb-Ash, where only hard work awaited her. But on the way she noticed a crowd listening to a preacher and she stopped for a while to join them. The preacher was describing with enthusiasm how he had been wicked for years and how a certain parson had pointed it out to him: this had gradually turned him from wickedness. But Tess was more shocked by the voice than the words. She moved round behind the crowd to look at his face. As the afternoon sun shone full on him, she recognized Alec D'Urberville.

"Look, here's a pair of old boots," said one of the brothers, noticing Tess's boots behind the tree.

"Excellent walking boots, I see," said Miss Chant. "How wicked to throw them away! Give them to me. I'll find a poor person who would like them."