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A Tale of Two Cities

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Defarge brought him the wine, and gave him Good Evening. Defarge brought him his wine and wished him a good evening.
“How?” “How?” Carton asked in poor French.
“Good evening.” “Good evening.”
“Oh! Good evening, citizen,” filling his glass. “Ah! and good wine. I drink to the Republic.” “Oh! Good evening, citizen,” said Carton, filling his glass. “Ah! and good wine. I toast my glass to the Republic.”
Defarge went back to the counter, and said, “Certainly, a little like.” Madame sternly retorted, “I tell you a good deal like.” Jacques Three pacifically remarked, “He is so much in your mind, see you, madame.” The amiable Vengeance added, with a laugh, “Yes, my faith! And you are looking forward with so much pleasure to seeing him once more to-morrow!” Defarge went back to the counter. He said, “He certainly looks a little like him.” Madame answered firmly, “I tell you, he looks a lot like him.” Jacques Three said soothingly, “You have been thinking about him so much that you are starting to see him everywhere, madame.” The Vengeance added, laughing, “Yes! And you are so anxious to see him one last time tomorrow at his execution!”
Carton followed the lines and words of his paper, with a slow forefinger, and with a studious and absorbed face. They were all leaning their arms on the counter close together, speaking low. After a silence of a few moments, during which they all looked towards him without disturbing his outward attention from the Jacobin editor, they resumed their conversation. Carton pretended to work strenuously at reading his paper, following the words with his finger. He looked completely absorbed. They were all leaning their arms on the counter and were close together, speaking quietly. They all looked at him for a few moments in silence without distracting him from his Jacobin journal. Then they resumed their conversation.
“It is true what madame says,” observed Jacques Three. “Why stop? There is great force in that. Why stop?” “It’s true what Madame Defarge says,” said Jacques Three. “Why stop now? That makes a lot of sense. Why stop now?”
“Well, well,” reasoned Defarge, “but one must stop somewhere. After all, the question is still where?” “Well, well,” reasoned Defarge. “But we have to stop somewhere. After all, the question is, where do we stop?”
“At extermination,” said madame. “We stop after they have been exterminated,” said Madame Defarge.
“Magnificent!” croaked Jacques Three. The Vengeance, also, highly approved. “Wonderful!” said Jacques Three, hoarsely. The Vengeance also enthusiastically approved.
“Extermination is good doctrine, my wife,” said Defarge, rather troubled; “in general, I say nothing against it. But this Doctor has suffered much; you have seen him to-day; you have observed his face when the paper was read.” “Extermination is a good policy, my wife” said Defarge, rather troubled. “In general I have nothing against it. But Dr. Manette has suffered a great deal. You saw him today. You saw his face when they read the paper he had written in prison.”
“I have observed his face!” repeated madame, contemptuously and angrily. “Yes. I have observed his face. I have observed his face to be not the face of a true friend of the Republic. Let him take care of his face!” “I saw his face!” repeated Madame Defarge hatefully and angrily. “Yes. I saw his face. I see that his face is not the face of a true friend to the Republic. Let him worry about his face!”
“And you have observed, my wife,” said Defarge, in a deprecatory manner, “the anguish of his daughter, which must be a dreadful anguish to him!” “And you have seen how much his daughter has suffered,” said Defarge to his wife disapprovingly. “Her suffering must torture him!”
“I have observed his daughter,” repeated madame; “yes, I have observed his daughter, more times than one. I have observed her to-day, and I have observed her other days. I have observed her in the court, and I have observed her in the street by the prison. Let me but lift my finger—!” She seemed to raise it (the listener’s eyes were always on his paper), and to let it fall with a rattle on the ledge before her, as if the axe had dropped. “I have seen his daughter,” repeated Madame Defarge. “Yes, I have seen his daughter several times. I saw her today and I have seen her other days. I have seen her in court and I have seen her in the street by the prison. Let me just raise a finger—” Carton thought that she raised it, although he never looked up from his paper. She let it fall with a rattle on the edge of the counter in front of her, as if it were an axe falling.
“The citizeness is superb!” croaked the Juryman. “Madame Defarge is superb!” said Jacques Three hoarsely.
“She is an Angel!” said The Vengeance, and embraced her. “She is an angel!’ said The Vengeance. She embraced Madame Defarge.
“As to thee,” pursued madame, implacably, addressing her husband, “if it depended on thee—which, happily, it does not—thou wouldst rescue this man even now.” “As far as you are concerned,” continued Madame Defarge unforgivingly to her husband, “if it depended on you—which, fortunately, it does not—you would rescue Darnay right now.”
“No!” protested Defarge. “Not if to lift this glass would do it! But I would leave the matter there. I say, stop there.” “No!” Defarge argued. “Not even if I could save him just by raising this glass! But I would end it there. I say we should stop there.”
“See you then, Jacques,” said Madame Defarge, wrathfully; “and see you, too, my little Vengeance; see you both! Listen! For other crimes as tyrants and oppressors, I have this race a long time on my register, doomed to destruction and extermination. Ask my husband, is that so.” “See you then, Jacques,” said Madame Defarge wrathfully. “And see you too, Vengeance. I’ll see you both. Listen! I have the Evremonde family on my list for other crimes as tyrants and oppressors. They are doomed to be destroyed and exterminated. Ask my husband if it’s true.”

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