He drove past the cross-roads, one mile, two miles, without showing any signs of affection.
'You love me very, very much, Izz?' he suddenly asked.
'I do—I have said I do! I loved you all the time we was at the dairy together.'
'More than Tess?'
She shook her head.
'No,' she murmured, 'not more than she.'
'How's that?'
'Because nobody could love 'ee more than Tess did! . . . She would have laid down her life for 'ee. I could do no more.'
Like the prophet on the top of Peor Izz Huett would fain have spoken perversely at such a moment, but the fascination exercised over her rougher nature by Tess's character compelled her to grace.
Clare was silent; his heart had risen at these straightforward words from such an unexpected, unimpeachable quarter. In his throat was something as if a sob had solidified there. His ears repeated, 'She would have laid down her life for 'ee. I could do no more!'
'Forget our idle talk, Izz,' he said, turning the
