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 for them to see her before he started a second time—with her.

A hastily prepared supper was brought in, and Clare gave further explanation of his plans. His mother’s disappointment at not seeing the bride still remained with her. Clare’s late enthusiasm for Tess had infected her through her maternal sympathies, till she had almost fancied that a good thing could come out of Nazareth—a charming woman out of Talbothays Dairy. She watched her son as he ate.

‘Cannot you describe her! I am sure she is very pretty, Angel.’

‘Of that there can be no question!’ he said, with a zest which covered its bitterness.

‘And that she is pure and virtuous goes without question?’

‘Pure and virtuous, of course, she is.’

‘I can see her quite distinctly. You said the other day that she was fine in figure; roundly built; had deep red lips with keen corners; dark eyelashes and brows, an immense rope of hair like a ship’s cable; and large eyes violety-bluey blackish.’

‘I did, mother.’