On reaching Casterbridge he left the horse and trap
at an inn, and at five minutes before ten came back to
the bridge at the lower end of the town, and sat himself
upon the parapet. The clocks struck the hour, and no
Fanny appeared. In fact, at that moment she was being
robed in her grave-clothes by two attendants at the
Union poorhouse -- the first and last tiring-women the
gentle creature had ever been honoured with. The
quarter went, the half hour. A rush of recollection
came upon Troy as he waited: this was the second
time she had broken a serious engagement with him
In anger he vowed it should be the last, and at eleven
o'clock, when he had lingered and watched the stone
of the bridge till he knew every lichen upon their face
and heard the chink of the ripples underneath till they
oppressed him, he jumped from his seat, went to the inn
for his gig, and in a bitter mood of indifference con-
cerning the past, and recklessness about the future,
drove on to Budmouth races.
He reached the race-course at two o'clock, and re-
mained either there or in the town till nine, But
Fanny's image, as it had appeared to him in the sombre
shadows of that Saturday evening, returned to his mind,
backed up by Bathsheba's reproaches.
Pages:
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527