“I would advise you not to let it go far,” said Clym. “It will get much heavier, you will find.” However, Eustacia had begun to pay out. While he was tying she cried, “I cannot stop it!” Clym ran to her side, and found he could only check the rope by twisting the loose part round the upright post, when it stopped with a jerk. “Has it hurt you?” “Yes,” she replied. “Very much?” “No; I think not.” She opened her hands. One of them was bleeding; the rope had dragged off the skin. Eustacia wrapped it in her handkerchief. “You should have let go,” said Yeobright. “Why didn’t you?” “You said I was to hold on.... This is the second time I have been wounded today.” “Ah, yes; I have heard of it. I blush for my native Egdon. Was it a serious injury you received in church, Miss Vye?” There was such an abundance of sympathy in Clym’s tone that Eustacia slowly drew up her sleeve and disclosed her round white arm. A bright red spot appeared on its smooth surface, like a ruby on Parian marble. “There it is,” she said, putting her finger against the spot. “It was dastardly of the woman,” said Clym. “Will not Captain Vye get her punished?” “He is gone from home on that very business. I did not know that I had such a magic reputation.” “And you fainted?” said Clym, looking at the scarlet little puncture as if he would like to kiss it and make it well. “Yes, it frightened me. I had not been to church for a long time. And now I shall not go again for ever so long—perhaps never. I cannot face their eyes after this. Don’t you think it dreadfully humiliating? I wished I was dead for hours after, but I don’t mind now.” “I have come to clean away these cobwebs,” said Yeobright. “Would you like to help me—by high-class teaching? We might benefit them much.” “I don’t quite feel anxious to. I have not much love for my fellow-creatures. Sometimes I quite hate them.” “Still I think that if you were to hear my scheme you might take an interest in it. There is no use in hating people—if you hate anything, you should hate what produced them.” “Do you mean Nature? I hate her already. But I shall be glad to hear your scheme at any time.” The situation had now worked itself out, and the next natural thing was for them to part. Clym knew this well enough, and Eustacia made a move of conclusion; yet he looked at her as if he had one word more to say. Perhaps if he had not lived in Paris it would never have been uttered. “We have met before,” he said, regarding her with rather more interest than was necessary. “I do not own it,” said Eustacia, with a repressed, still look. “But I may think what I like.” “Yes.” “You are lonely here.” “I cannot endure the heath, except in its purple season. The heath is a cruel taskmaster to me.” “Can you say so?” he asked. “To my mind it is most exhilarating, and strengthening, and soothing. I would rather live on these hills than anywhere else in the world.”