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2020-08-08 11:06:31  Դձ
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򲫲ʹ˾ַ:a g 9 559 v i p<`How have I done what I have done?' said Stryver; `how do I do what I do?'The object of all this staring and blaring, was a young man of about five-and-twenty, well-grown and well-looking, with a sunburnt cheek and a dark eye. His condition was that of a young gentleman. He was plainly dressed in black, or very dark grey, and his hair, which was long and dark, was gathered in a ribbon at the back of his neck; more to be out of his way than for ornament. As an emotion of the mind will express itself through any covering of the body, so the paleness which his situation engendered came through the brown upon his cheek, showing the soul to be stronger than the sun. He was otherwise quite self-possessed, bowed to the Judge, and stood quiet.

`Two.'

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`They call me Defarge.'

`Seeking them from me, my nephew,' said the Marquis, touching him on the breast with his forefinger--they were now standing by the hearth--you will for ever seek them in vain, be assured.

`Hundreds,' said Miss Pross.

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`Yes, sir. Tellson's Bank in London, sir?'

`And she showed me her children,' said the Doctor of Beauvais, `and they had heard of me, and had been taught to pity me. When they passed a prison of the State, they kept far from its frowning walls, and looked up at its bars, and spoke in whispers. She could never deliver me; I imagined that she always brought me back after showing me such things. But then, blessed with the relief of tears, I fell upon my knees, and blessed her.'

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`Charles Darnay! I rejoice to see you. We have been counting on your return these three or four days past. Mr. Stryver and Sydney Carton were both here yesterday, and both made you out to be more than due.

All the people within reach had suspended their business or their idleness, to run to the spot and drink the wine. The rough, irregular stones of the street, pointing every way, and designed, one might have thought, expressly to lame all living creatures that approached them, had dammed it into little pools; these were surrounded, each by its own jostling group or crowd, according to its size. Some men kneeled down, made scoops of their two hands joined, and sipped, or tried to help women, who bent over their shoulders to sip, before the wine had all run out between their fingers. Others, men and women, dipped in the puddles with little mugs of mutilated earthenware, or even with handkerchiefs from women's heads, which were squeezed dry into infants mouths; others made small mud embankments, to stem the wine as it ran; others, directed by lookers-on up at high windows, darted here and there, to cut off little streams of wine that started away in new directions; others devoted themselves to the sodden and lee-dyed pieces of the cask licking, and even champing the moister wine-rotted fragments with eager relish. There was no drainage to carry off the wine, and not only did it all get taken up, but so much mud got taken up along with it, that there might have been a scavenger in the street, if anybody acquainted with it could have believed in such a miraculous presence.

<`No; but before I go on,' said Stryver, shaking his head in his bullying way, `I'll have this out with you. You've been at Dr. Manette's house as much as I have, or more than I have. Why, I have been ashamed of your moroseness there! Your manners have been of that silent and sullen and hang-dog kind, that, upon my life and soul, I have been ashamed of you, Sydney!'`And indeed, sir,' pursued Mr. Lorry, not minding him, `I really don't know what you have to do with the matter. If you'll excuse me, as very much your cider, for saying so, I really don't know that it is your business.'

If that be so, do you sec what, on the other hand, is involved in it?'

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<`You are a philosopher, you there,' said the Marquis, smiling. `How do they call you?'Nevertheless, not a moment was lost; not a moment! This Foulon was at the H?tel de Ville, and might be loosed. Never, if Saint Antoine knew his own sufferings, insults, and wrongs! Armed men and women flocked out of the Quarter so fast, and drew even these last dregs after them with such a force of suction, that within a quarter of an hour there was not a human creature in Saint Antoine's bosom but a few old crones and the wailing children.

`Is he alone?' the latter whispered.

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򲫲ʹ˾ӿϢʿձ첻ᰴԭƻ人 `Our family; our honourable family, whose honour is of so much account to both of us, in such different ways. Even in my father's time, we did a world of wrong, injuring every human creature who came between us and our pleasure, whatever it was. Why need I speak of my father's time, when it is equally yours? Can I separate my father's twin-brother, joint inheritor, and next successor, from himself?' ϸ

ί߼רԱܲȥ人ͱȥ ܲͱ| ̵2018|˳ Ϲ㴺ڡճǡ

򲫲ʹ˾رճͨգ10人˵һ `Yes, my Lord.' ϸ

򲫲ʹ˾Ȩ͹״ôӶﴫȾ˵ģ| ̵2018|Ƹ¹ڷȷ1002 ϵ人֮ȫ2ǧ
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