"Certainly," said Jude with alacrity, the case being unexpectedly altered.
Indoors they went.
Did he want any tea?
No, it was too late: he would rather sit and talk to her.
She took off her jacket and hat, and they sat down—naturally enough close together.
"Don't touch me, please," she said softly.
"I am part egg-shell.
Or perhaps I had better put it in a safe place."
She began unfastening the collar of her gown.
"What is it?" said her lover.
"An egg—a cochin's egg.
I am hatching a very rare sort.
I carry it about everywhere with me, and it will get hatched in less than three weeks."
"Where do you carry it?"
"Just here."
She put her hand into her bosom and drew out the egg, which was wrapped in wool, outside it being a piece of pig's bladder, in case of accidents.
Having exhibited it to him she put it back,
"Now mind you don't come near me.
I don't want to get it broke, and have to begin another."
"Why do you do such a strange thing?"
"It's an old custom.
I suppose it is natural for a woman to want to bring live things into the world."
"It is very awkward for me just now," he said, laughing.
"It serves you right.
There—that's all you can have of me"
She had turned round her chair, and, reaching over the back of it, presented her cheek to him gingerly.
"That's very shabby of you!"
"You should have catched me a minute ago when I had put the egg down!
There!" she said defiantly,
"I am without it now!"
She had quickly withdrawn the egg a second time; but before he could quite reach her she had put it back as quickly, laughing with the excitement of her strategy.
Then there was a little struggle, Jude making a plunge for it and capturing it triumphantly.
Her face flushed; and becoming suddenly conscious he flushed also.
They looked at each other, panting; till he rose and said:
"One kiss, now I can do it without damage to property; and I'll go!"
But she had jumped up too.
"You must find me first!" she cried.
Her lover followed her as she withdrew.
It was now dark inside the room, and the window being small he could not discover for a long time what had become of her, till a laugh revealed her to have rushed up the stairs, whither Jude rushed at her heels.
IX
It was some two months later in the year, and the pair had met constantly during the interval. Arabella seemed dissatisfied; she was always imagining, and waiting, and wondering.
One day she met the itinerant Vilbert.
She, like all the cottagers thereabout, knew the quack well, and she began telling him of her experiences.
Arabella had been gloomy, but before he left her she had grown brighter.
That evening she kept an appointment with Jude, who seemed sad.
"I am going away," he said to her.
"I think I ought to go.
I think it will be better both for you and for me.
I wish some things had never begun!
I was much to blame, I know.