occupied by the short journey from Chaseborough, even at this walking pace, and that they were no longer on hard road, but in a mere trackway.
‘Why, where be we?’ she exclaimed.
‘Passing by a wood.’
‘A wood—what wood? Surely we are quite out of the road?’
‘A bit of the Chase—the oldest wood in England. It is a lovely night, and why should we not prolong our ride a little?’
‘How could you be so treacherous!’ said Tess, between archness and real dismay, and getting rid of his arm by pulling open his fingers one by one, though at the risk of slipping off herself. ‘Just when I’ve been putting such trust in you, and obliging you to please you, because I thought I had wronged you by that push! Please set me down, and let me walk home.’
‘You cannot walk home, even if the air were clear. We are miles away from Trantridge, if I must tell you, and in this growing fog you might wander for hours among these trees.’
‘Never mind that’, she coaxed. ‘Put me down, I beg you. I don’t mind where it is; only let me get down, sir, please!’
135
