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blood…red transparency in which the veins could be seen。 None of them feared him。 The monotony of his occupation soothed him； and was in itself a pleasure。 A forced limitation of effort offered a justification of homely courses to an unambitious man； whose conscience would hardly have allowed him to remain in such obscurity while his powers were unimpeded。 Hence Yeobright sometimes sang to himself； and when obliged to acpany Humphrey in search of brambles for faggot…bonds he would amuse his panion with sketches of Parisian life and character； and so while away the time。
On one of these warm afternoons Eustacia walked out alone in the direction of Yeobright’s place of work。 He was busily chopping away at the furze； a long row of faggots which stretched downward from his position representing the labour of the day。 He did not observe her approach； and she stood close to him； and heard his undercurrent of song。
It shocked her。 To see him there； a poor afflicted man； earning money by the sweat of his brow； had at first moved her to tears； but to hear him sing and not at all rebel against an occupation which； however satisfactory to himself； was degrading to her； as an educated lady…wife； wounded her through。 Unconscious of her presence； he still went on singing：
“Le point du jour
A nos bosquets rend toute leur parure；
Flore est plus belle a son retour；
L’oiseau reprend doux chant d’amour；
Tout celebre dans la nature
Le point du jour。
“Le point du jour
Cause parfois； cause douleur extreme；
Que l’espace des nuits est court
Pour le berger brulant d’amour；
Force de quitter ce qu’il aime
Au point du jour！”
It was bitterly plain to Eustacia that he did not care much about social failure； and the proud fair woman bowed her head and wept in sick despair at thought of the blasting effect upon her own life of that mood and condition in him。 Then she came forward。
“I would starve rather than do it！” she exclaimed vehemently。
“And you can sing！ I will go and live with my grandfather again！”
“Eustacia！ I did not see you； though I noticed something moving；” he said gently。 He came forward； pulled off his huge leather glove； and took her hand。 “Why do you speak in such a strange way？ It is only a little old song which struck my fancy when I was in Paris； and now just applies to my life with you。 Has your love for me all died； then； because my appearance is no longer that of a fine gentleman？”
“Dearest； you must not question me unpleasantly； or it may make me not love you。”
“Do you believe it possible that I would run the risk of doing that？”
“Well； you follow out your own ideas； and won’t give in to mine when I wish you to leave off this shameful labour。 Is there anything you dislike in me that you act so contrarily to my wishes？ I am your wife； and why will you not listen？ Yes； I am your wife indeed！”
“I know what that tone means。”
“What tone？”
“The tone in which you said； ‘Your wife indeed。’ It meant； ‘Your wife； worse luck。’”
“It is hard in you to probe me with that remark。 A woman may have reason； though she is not without heart； and if I felt ‘worse luck；’ it was no ignoble feeling— it was only too natural。 There； you see that at any rate I do not attempt untruths。 Do you remember how； before we were married； I warned you that I had not good wifely qualities？”
“You mock me to say that now。 On that point at least the only noble course would be to hold your tongue； for you are still queen of me； Eustacia； though I may no longer be king of you。”
“You are my husband。 Does not that content you？”
“Not unless you are my wife without regret。”
“I cannot answer you。 I remember saying that I should be a serious matter on your hands。”
“Yes； I saw that。”
“Then you were too quick to see！ No true lover would have seen any such thing； you are too severe upon me； Clym—I won’t like your speaking so at all。”
“Well； I married you in spite of it； and don’t regret doing so。 How cold you seem this afternoon！ and yet I used to think there never was a warmer heart than yours。”
“Yes； I fear we are cooling—I see it as well as you；” she sighed mournfully。 “And how madly we loved two months ago！ You were never tired of contemplating me； nor I of contemplating you。 Who could have thought then that by this time my eyes would not seem so very bright to yours； nor your lips so very sweet to mine？ Two months—is it possible？ Yes； ‘tis too true！”
“You sigh； dear； as if you were sorry for it； and that’s a hopeful sign。”
“No。 I don’t sigh for that。 There are other things for me to sigh for； or any other woman in my place。”
“That your chances in life are ruined by marrying in haste an unfortunate man？”
“Why will you force me； Clym； to say bitter things？ I deserve pity as much as you。 As much？I think I deserve it more。 For you can sing！ It would be a strange hour which should catch me singing under such a cloud as this！ Believe me； sweet； I could weep to a degree that would astonish and confound such an elastic mind as yours。 Even had you felt careless about your own affliction； you might have refrained from singing out of sheer pity for mine。 God！ if I were a man in such a position I would curse rather than sing。”
Yeobright placed his hand upon her arm。 “Now； don’t you suppose； my inexperienced girl； that I cannot rebel； in high Promethean fashion； against the gods and fate as well as you。 I have felt more steam and smoke of that sort than you have ever heard of。 But the more I see of life the more do I perceive that there is nothing particularly great in its greatest walks； and therefore nothing particularly small in mine of furze…cutting。 If I feel that the greatest blessings vouchsafed to us are not very valuable； how can I feel it to be any great hardship when they are taken away？ So I sing to pass the time。 Have you indeed lost all tenderness for me； that you begrudge me a few cheerful moments？”
“I have still some tenderness left for you。”
“Your words have no longer their old flavour。 And so love dies with good fortune！”
“I cannot listen to this； Clym—it will end bitterly；” she said in a broken voice。 �