"They be coming, sir—lots of 'em—a-foot and a-driving!"
"I was coming down this moment. Those wheels I heard—is it Mrs. Troy?"
"No, sir—'tis not she yet."
A reserved and sombre expression had returned to Boldwood's face again, but it poorly cloaked his feelings when he pronounced Bathsheba's name; and his feverish anxiety continued to show its existence by a galloping motion of his fingers upon the side of his thigh as he went down the stairs.
VII.
"How does this cover me?" said Troy to Pennyways. "Nobody would recognize me now, I'm sure."
He was buttoning on a heavy grey overcoat of Noachian cut, with cape and high collar, the latter being erect and rigid, like a girdling wall, and nearly reaching to the verge of a travelling cap which was pulled down over his ears.
Pennyways snuffed the candle, and then looked up and deliberately inspected Troy.
"You've made up your mind to go then?" he said.
"Made up my mind? Yes; of course I have."
"Why not write to her. 'Tis a very queer
