Although Farfrae had never so
passionately liked Henchard as Henchard had liked him, he had, on the
other hand, never so passionately hated in the same direction as his
former friend had done, and he was therefore not the least indisposed to
assist Elizabeth-Jane in her laudable plan.
But it was by no means easy to set about discovering Henchard. He had
apparently sunk into the earth on leaving Mr. and Mrs. Farfrae's door.
Elizabeth-Jane remembered what he had once attempted; and trembled.
But though she did not know it Henchard had become a changed man since
then--as far, that is, as change of emotional basis can justify such
a radical phrase; and she needed not to fear. In a few days Farfrae's
inquiries elicited that Henchard had been seen by one who knew him
walking steadily along the Melchester highway eastward, at twelve
o'clock at night--in other words, retracing his steps on the road by
which he had come.
This was enough; and the next morning Farfrae might have been discovered
driving his gig out of Casterbridge in that direction, Elizabeth-Jane
sitting beside him, wrapped in a thick flat fur--the victorine of the
period--her complexion somewhat richer than formerly, and an incipient
matronly dignity, which the serene Minerva-eyes of one "whose gestures
beamed with mind" made becoming, settling on her face.
Pages:
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473