`Promisetoleavethebooksalone。’
Shehesitated。`Letmego！’sherepeated。
`Promise！’
Afterapause：`Ido。’
Juderelinquishedhishold，andshecrossedtheroomtothedoor，outofwhichshewentwithasetface，andintothehighway。Hereshebegantosaunterupanddown，perverselypullingherhairintoaworsedisorderthanhehadcaused，andunfasteningseveralbuttonsofhergown。ItwasafineSundaymorning，dry，clearandfrosty，andthebellsofAlfredstonChurchcouldbeheardonthebreezefromthenorth。Peopleweregoingalongtheroad，dressedintheirholidayclothes；theyweremainlylovers-suchpairsasJudeandArabellahadbeenwhentheysportedalongthesametracksomemonthsearlier。Thesepedestriansturnedtostareattheextraordinaryspectacleshenowpresented，bonnetless，herdishevelledhairblowinginthewind，herbodiceaparthersleevesrolledaboveherelbowsforherwork，andherhandsreekingwithmeltedfat。Oneofthepasserssaidinmockterror：`GoodLorddeliverus！’