ong one. Nobody else need know:
you could go with me to Mr. Grower and just let me speak to 'ee before
him as if we were on such terms. We'll ask him to keep it secret. He
will willingly wait then. At the fortnight's end I shall be able to face
him; and I can coolly tell him all is postponed between us for a year
or two. Not a soul in the town need know how you've helped me. Since you
wish to be of use, there's your way."

It being now what the people called the "pinking in" of the day, that
is, the quarter-hour just before dusk, he did not at first observe the
result of his own words upon her.

"If it were anything else," she began, and the dryness of her lips was
represented in her voice.

"But it is such a little thing!" he said, with a deep reproach. "Less
than you have offered--just the beginning of what you have so lately
promised! I could have told him as much myself, but he would not have
believed me."

"It is not because I won't--it is because I absolutely can't," she said,
with rising distress.

"You are provoking!" he burst out. "It is enough to make me force you to
carry out at once what you have promised."

"I cannot!" she insisted desperately.

"Why? When I have only within these few minutes released you from your
promise to do the thing offhand."

"Because--he was a witness!"

"Witness? Of what?

"If I must tell you----. Don't, don't upbraid me!"

"Well! Let's hear what you mean?"

"Witness of my marriage--Mr. Grower was!"

"Marriage?"

"Yes. With Mr. Farfrae. O Michael! I am already his wife. We were
married this week at Port-Bredy. There were reasons against our doing it
here. Mr. Grower was a witness because he happened to be at Port-Bredy
at the time."

Henchard stood as if idiotized. She was so alarmed at his silence that
she murmured something about lending him sufficient money to tide over
the perilous fortnight.

"Married him?" said Henchard at length. "My good--what, married him
whilst--bound to marry me?"

"It was like this," she explained, with tears in her eyes and quavers
in her voice; "don't--don't be cruel! I loved him so much, and I thought
you might tell him of the past--and that grieved me! And then, when I
had promised you, I learnt of the rumour that you had--sold your first
wife at a fair like a horse or cow! How could I keep my promise after
hearing that? I could not risk myself in your hands; it would have been
letting myself down to take your name after such