"You'll go back with me?" he said. "There's a train just now. I
wonder how my aunt is by this time... And so, Sue, you really came
on my account all this way! At what an early time you must have
started, poor thing!"
"Yes. Sitting up watching alone made me all nerves for you, and
instead of going to bed when it got light I started. And now you
won't frighten me like this again about your morals for nothing?"
He was not so sure that she had been frightened about his morals for
nothing. He released her hand till they had entered the train,--it
seemed the same carriage he had lately got out of with another--where
they sat down side by side, Sue between him and the window. He
regarded the delicate lines of her profile, and the small, tight,
applelike convexities of her bodice, so different from Arabella's
amplitudes. Though she knew he was looking at her she did not turn
to him, but kept her eyes forward, as if afraid that by meeting his
own some troublous discussion would be initiated.
"Sue--you are married now, you know, like me; and yet we have been in
such a hurry that we have not said a word about it!"
"There's no necessity," she quickly returned.
"Oh well--perhaps not... But I wish"
"Jude--don't talk about ME--I wish you wouldn't!" she entreated.
"It distresses me, rather. Forgive my saying it! ... Where did you
stay last night?"
She had asked the question in perfect innocence, to change the topic.
He knew that, and said merely, "At an inn," though it would have been
a relief to tell her of his meeting with an unexpected one. But the
latter's final announcement of her marriage in Australia bewildered
him lest what he might say should do his ignorant wife an injury.
Their talk proceeded but awkwardly till they reached Alfredston.
That Sue was not as she had been, but was labelled "Phillotson,"
paralyzed Jude whenever he wanted to commune with her as an
individual. Yet she seemed unaltered--he could not say why.
There remained the five-mile extra journey into the country, which
it was just as easy to walk as to drive, the greater part of it being
uphill. Jude had never before in his life gone that road with Sue,
though he had with another. It was now as if he carried a bright
light which temporarily banished the shady associations of the
earlier time.
Sue talked; but Jude noticed that she still kept the conversation
from herself. At length he inquired if her husband were well.