VI.–xi.

The last pages to which the chronicler of these lives would ask the reader’s attention are concerned with the scene in and out of Jude’s bedroom when leafy summer came round again. His face was now so thin that his old friends would hardly have...

VI.–ix.

On the platform stood Arabella. She looked him up and down. ‘You’ve been to see her?’ she asked. ‘I have,’ said Jude, literally tottering with cold and lassitude. ‘Well, now you’d best march along home.’ The water ran out of him as he went, and...

VI.–vi.

The place was the door of Jude’s lodging in the outskirts of Christminster—far from the precincts of St. Silas’ where he had formerly lived, which saddened him to sickness. The rain was coming down. A woman in shabby black stood on the doorstep talking...

VI.–i.

On their arrival the station was lively with straw-hatted young men welcoming young girls who bore a remarkable family likeness to their welcomers, and who were dressed up in the brightest and lightest of raiment. ‘The place seems gay,’ said Sue. ‘Why—it is Remembrance Day!...

V.–vii.

From that week Jude Fawley and Sue walked no more in the town of Aldbrickham. Whither they had gone nobody knew, chiefly because nobody cared to know. Any one sufficiently curious to trace the steps of such an obscure pair might have discovered without great...

V.–vi.

The unnoticed lives that the pair had hitherto led began, from the day of the suspended wedding onwards, to be observed and discussed by other persons than Arabella. The society of Spring Street and the neighbourhood generally did not understand, and probably could not...

IV.–vi.

In returning to his native town of Shaston as schoolmaster Phillotson had won the interest and awakened the memories of the inhabitants, who, though they did not honour him for his miscellaneous acquirements as he would have been honoured elsewhere, retained for him a...

IV.–iv.

Phillotson was sitting up late, as was often his custom, trying to get together the materials for his long-neglected hobby of Roman antiquities. For the first time since reviving the subject he felt a return of his old interest in it. He forgot time...

I.–vi.

At this memorable date of his life he was, one Saturday, returning from Alfredston to Marygreen about three o’clock in the afternoon. It was fine, warm, and soft summer weather, and he walked with his tools at his back, his little chisels clinking faintly...

I.–i.

The schoolmaster was leaving the village, and everybody seemed sorry. The miller at Cresscombe lent him the small white tilted cart and horse to carry his goods to the city of his destination, about twenty miles off, such a vehicle proving of quite sufficient...