round her waist, but he did not; he merely said what to himself seemed a quite bold enough thing: "Take my arm."
She took it, thoroughly, up to the shoulder. He felt the warmth of her body against his, and, putting his stick under his other arm, held with his right hand her right as it rested in its place.
"Now we are well together, dear, aren't we," he observed.
"Yes," said she; adding to herself: "Rather mild!"
"How fast I have become!" he was thinking.
"Thus they walked till they reached the foot of the upland, where they could see the white highway ascending before them in the gloom. From this point the only way of getting to Arabella's was by going up the incline, and dipping again into the valley on the right. Before they had climbed far they were nearly run into by two men who had been walking on the grass unseen.
"These lovers—you find 'em out-o'-doors in all seasons and weathers—lovers and homeless dogs only," said one of the men as they vanished down the hill. Arabella tittered lightly.
"Are we lovers?" asked Jude.
"You know best."
"But you can tell me?"
For answer she inclined her head upon his shoulder. Jude took the hint, and encircling her waist with his arm, pulled her to him and kissed her.
They walked now no longer arm in arm, but, as she had desired, clasped together. After all, what did it matter since it was dark, said Jude to himself. When they were half-way up the long hill they paused as by arrangement, and he kissed her again. They reached the top, and he kissed her once more.
"You can keep your arm there, if you would like to," she said, gently.
He did so, thinking how trusting she was.
Thus they slowly went towards her home. He had left his cottage at half-past three, intending to be sitting down
