oundings had not darkened because of her griefnor
sickened because of her pain.
She might have seen that what had bowed her head so profoundly - the thought of
the world's concern at her situation was founded on an illusion. She was not an existence
an experiencea passiona structure of sensationsto anybody but herself. To all
humankind besides Tess was only a passing thought. Even to friends she was no more
than a frequently passing thought. If she made herself miserable the livelong night and
day it was only this much to them--'Ahshe makes herself unhappy.' If she tried to be
cheerfulto dismiss all careto take pleasure in the daylightthe flowersthe babyshe
could only be this idea to them - `Ahshe bears it very well.' Moreoveralone in a desert
island would she have been wretched at what had happened to her? Not greatly. If she
could have been but just created to discover herself as a spouseless motherwith no
experience of life except as the parent of a nameless childwould the position have
caused her to despair? Noshe would have taken it calmlyand found pleasures therein.
Most of the misery had been generated by her conventional aspectand not by her innate
sensations.
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