Standing beside the sheep already shorn, they went on talking again.

Concerning the flock?
Apparently not.

Gabriel theorized, not without truth, that in quiet discussion of any matter within reach of the speakers' eyes, these are usually fixed upon it.

Bathsheba demurely regarded a contemptible straw lying upon the ground, in a way which suggested less ovine criticism than womanly embarrassment.

She became more or less red in the cheek, the blood wavering in uncertain flux and reflux over the sensitive space between ebb and flood.