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A Tale of Two Cities

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“No!” returned the spy. “I throw up. I confess that we were so unpopular with the outrageous mob, that I only got away from England at the risk of being ducked to death, and that Cly was so ferreted up and down, that he never would have got away at all but for that sham. Though how this man knows it was a sham, is a wonder of wonders to me.” “No!” answered Barsad. “I give up. I confess that we were so unpopular with the mob that I only got away from England at the risk of being drowned to death, and that Cly was being chased so much that he never would have gotten away if he hadn’t faked his own death. Though how Mr. Cruncher knows that it was a scam I have no idea.”
“Never you trouble your head about this man,” retorted the contentious Mr. Cruncher; “you’ll have trouble enough with giving your attention to that gentleman. And look here! Once more!” —Mr. Cruncher could not be restrained from making rather an ostentatious parade of his liberality—”I’d catch hold of your throat and choke you for half a guinea.” “Don’t worry about me,” answered Mr. Cruncher angrily. “You’ll have enough trouble dealing with these two gentleman. And look here! Once again!” Mr. Cruncher couldn’t be stopped from showing off his generosity. “I’d grab you by the throat and choke you for half a guinea.”
The Sheep of the prisons turned from him to Sydney Carton, and said, with more decision, “It has come to a point. I go on duty soon, and can’t overstay my time. You told me you had a proposal; what is it? Now, it is of no use asking too much of me. Ask me to do anything in my office, putting my head in great extra danger, and I had better trust my life to the chances of a refusal than the chances of consent. In short, I should make that choice. You talk of desperation. We are all desperate here. Remember! I may denounce you if I think proper, and I can swear my way through stone walls, and so can others. Now, what do you want with me?” Barsad, the prison spy, turned from Mr. Cruncher to Sydney Carton and said decisively, “Let’s get to the point. I go on duty soon and can’t be late. You told me you had a proposal. What is it? Now, it’s no use asking too much from me. If you ask me to do anything as an official of the Republic that puts me in too much danger, it would be better for me take my chances and refuse you than to agree. In short, I will refuse you. You talk of desperation. Everyone is desperate. Remember! I might denounce you if I think it’s what I should do. I can lie very well, and so can others. Now, what do you want me to do?”
“Not very much. You are a turnkey at the Conciergerie?” “Not very much. You are a prison guard at the Conciergerie?”
“I tell you once for all, there is no such thing as an escape possible,” said the spy, firmly. “I’ll tell you for sure that there is no way to escape,” said Barsad, firmly.
“Why need you tell me what I have not asked? You are a turnkey at the Conciergerie?” “Why are you telling me what I didn’t ask? You are a guard at the Conciergerie?”
“I am sometimes.” “I am sometimes.”
“You can be when you choose?” “You can be a guard there when you want to be?”
“I can pass in and out when I choose.” “I can go in and out when I choose.”
Sydney Carton filled another glass with brandy, poured it slowly out upon the hearth, and watched it as it dropped. It being all spent, he said, rising: Sydney Carton filled another glass with brandy and poured it slowly on the hearth of the fireplace. He watched it as it spilled out, and after it was all gone he said, getting up:
“So far, we have spoken before these two, because it was as well that the merits of the cards should not rest solely between you and me. Come into the dark room here, and let us have one final word alone.” “So far, we have spoken in front of these two because it made sense that this discussion wasn’t just between the two of us. Now let’s go into this dark room and have one final word alone.”

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