It was not her hard taskmaster, Farmer Groby; it was one in a semi-clerical costume, who now represented what had once been the dare-devil Alec D'Urberville. Not being hot at his preaching there was less enthusiasm about him now, and the presence of the grinder seemed to embarrass him. A pale distress was already on Tess's face, and she pulled her curtained hood further over it.
D'Urberville came up and said quietly—
'I want to speak to you, Tess.'
'You have refused my last request, not to come near me!' said she.
'Yes, but I have a good reason.'
'Well, tell it.'
'It is more serious than you may think.'
He glanced round to see if he were overheard. They were at some distance from the man who turned the slicer, and the movement of the machine, too, sufficiently prevented Alec's words reaching other ears. D'Urberville placed himself so as to screen Tess from the labourer, turning his back to the latter.
'It is this,' he continued, with impetuous compunction. 'In thinking of your soul and mine when we last met, I neglected to inquire as to
