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 ‘Oh, I don’t know exactly,’ she said. ‘I was thinking that perhaps it would ha’ been better if Tess had not gone.’

‘Oughtn’t ye to have thought of that before?’

‘Well, ’tis a chance for the maid Still, if ’twere the doing again, I wouldn’t let her go till I had found out whether the gentleman is really a good-hearted young man and interested in her as his kinswoman.’

‘Yes, you ought, perhaps, to ha’ done that,’ snored Sir John.

Joan Durbeyfield always managed to find consolation somewhere: ‘Well, as one of the genuine stock, she ought to make her way with ’en, if she plays her trump card aright. And if he don’t marry her afore he will after. For that he’s all afire wi’ love for her any eye can see.’

‘What’s her trump card? Her D’Urberville blood, you mean?’

‘No, stupid; her face—as ’twas mine.’