Summary

Portrait of Thomas Hardy Thomas Hardy Far from the Madding Crowd — Chapter XLVIII (1874)

Taking no further interest in herself as a splendid woman, she acquired the indifferent feelings of an outsider in contemplating her probable fate as a singular wretch; for Bathsheba drew herself and her future in colours that no reality could exceed for darkness. Her original vigorous pride of youth had sickened, and with it had declined all her anxieties about coming years, since anxiety recognizes a better and a worse alternative, and Bathsheba had made up her mind that alternatives on any noteworthy scale had ceased for her.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Thomas Hardy Thomas Hardy Far from the Madding Crowd — Chapter XLVIII (1874)

When alone late that evening beside a small fire, and much calmed down, Bathsheba took Troy's watch into her hand, which had been restored to her with the rest of the articles belonging to him. She opened the case as he had opened it before her a week ago. There was the little coil of pale hair which had been as the fuze to this great explosion.
"He was hers and she was his; they should be gone together," she said. "I am nothing to either of them, and why should I keep her hair?" She took it in her hand, and held it over the fire."
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Thomas Hardy Thomas Hardy Far from the Madding Crowd — Chapter XLVIII (1874)

A coastguardsman found his clothes, and brought them into Budmouth yesterday."
Thereupon a strange fire lighted up Boldwood's eye, and his face flushed with the suppressed excitement of an unutterable thought. Everybody's glance was now centred upon him and the unconscious Bathsheba. He lifted her bodily off the ground, and smoothed down the folds of her dress as a child might have taken a storm-beaten bird and arranged its ruffled plumes, and bore her along the pavement to the King's Arms Inn.
Source: Wikisource

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