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 it is desirable, possible—I will come to you. But until I come to you it will be better that you should not try to come to me.’

The severity of the decree seemed deadly to Tess; she saw his view of her clearly enough; he could regard her in no other light than that of one who had practised gross deceit upon him. Yet could a woman who had done even what she had done deserve all this? But she could contest the point with him no further. She simply repeated after him his own words.

‘Until you come to me I must not try to come to you?’

‘Just so.’

‘May I write to you?’

‘Oh yes—if you are ill, or want anything at all. I hope that will not be the case; so that it may happen that I write first to you.’

‘I agree to the conditions, Angel; because you know best what my punishment ought to be; only—only—don’t make it more than I can bear!’

That was all she said on the matter. If Tess had been artful, had she made a scene, fainted, wept hysterically, in that lonely lane, notwithstanding the fury of fastidiousness with which he