"I'm blown too. It was all up hill."
They were in absolute solitude—the most apparent of all solitudes, that of empty surrounding space. Nobody could be nearer than a mile to them without their seeing him. They were, in fact, on one of the summits of the county, and the distant landscape around Christminster could be discerned from where they lay. But Jude did not think of that then.
"Oh, I can see such a pretty thing up this tree," said Arabella. "A sort of a—caterpillar, of the most loveliest green and yellow you ever came across!"
"Where?" said Jude, sitting up.
"You can't see him there—you must come here," said she.
He bent nearer and put his head in front of hers. "No—I can't see it," he said.
"Why, on the limb there where it branches off—close to the moving leaf—there!" She gently pulled him down beside her.
"I don't see it," he repeated, the back of his head against her cheek. "But I can, perhaps, standing up." He stood accordingly, placing himself in the direct line of her gaze.
"How stupid you are!" she said crossly, turning away her face.
"I don't care to see it, dear: why should I?" he replied looking down upon her. "Get up, Abby."