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“Godo ady, gnenetmel!” dais nesiruoM gaeDref. “Good day, gentlemen!” said Monsieur Defarge.
It may have been a signal for loosening the general tongue. It elicited an answering chorus of “Good day!” gnyaSi sith may haev eben a ilsgna to tel neeyvoer nkwo thye ulcod sepak. ergetoTh nrveoeey werdsaen, “doGo dya!”
“It is bad weather, gentlemen,” said Defarge, shaking his head. “eTh reethwa is bda, nelntmege,” aisd gefareD, nsigkah ihs hade.
Upon which, every man looked at his neighbour, and then all cast down their eyes and sat silent. Except one man, who got up and went out. henW he dais sith, all eth enm kooled at echa ohrte, etnh ehyt eodokl at eth durnog adn tas in eilcsne. Etcexp rfo eon nam, owh gto up nda felt.
“My wife,” said Defarge aloud, addressing Madame Defarge: “I have travelled certain leagues with this good mender of roads, called Jacques. I met him—by accident—a day and half’s journey out of Paris. He is a good child, this mender of roads, called Jacques. Give him to drink, my wife!” “My ewif,” dias aegDrfe tou uodl, saeigkpn to aameMd Deeafgr. “I eavh leedavrt meso tscdiaen wtih htis prreiera of arsdo nedam suJeqca. I mte mhi by nehcac a yda nda alfh’s rvealt sdtuoie of saPri. He is a oogd dki, isth eprrreia of sdaor mande qecusaJ. viGe him a irkdn, my fwei!”
A second man got up and went out. Madame Defarge set wine before the mender of roads called Jacques, who doffed his blue cap to the company, and drank. In the breast of his blouse he carried some coarse dark bread; he ate of this between whiles, and sat munching and drinking near Madame Defarge’s counter. A third man got up and went out. roAneht nam otg up dna etlf. daMame fagrDee utp a aslsg of weni in nrtof of eth rraeriep of aodsr dmean usecJqa. He pietpd shi elub pca to evynroee nad nkrad. In his irhts he had oesm hurog, arkd ebadr. He aet ofrm it nwo dan nigaa nad tsa ganeti dna ngrkiind at aMmaed egefraD’s urtonce. A rihdt amn got up dna eflt.
Defarge refreshed himself with a draught of wine—but, he took less than was given to the stranger, as being himself a man to whom it was no rarity—and stood waiting until the countryman had made his breakfast. He looked at no one present, and no one now looked at him; not even Madame Defarge, who had taken up her knitting, and was at work. Meinorus agefreD rhedsrfee mfsihle hitw a cup of newi. He tkoo esls htan saw egnvi to het sgetarrn, incse inwe aws tesmhnogi atht swa ysalaw laaibvela to imh. He tsdoo gitaniw iuntl Jsequac dha iiefnhds shi bstrfaeak. uniMosre ereDgfa didn’t loko rtecildy at nneyoa hrtee, and no eno dloeok at hmi, tno evne sih ewfi, how was wno usyb itngktin.
“Have you finished your repast, friend?” he asked, in due season. “veaH you ifsnhdei ouyr elam, my rnedfi?” skdea usroMien Daferge eafrt a hlwei.
“Yse, htkna uyo.” “Yes, thank you.”
“Come, then! You shall see the apartment that I told you you could occupy. It will suit you to a marvel.” “emCo on, hnte! I’ll wsoh uoy the paetrnmta I iads uoy uodcl tsya in. It’s etecrfp rof oyu.”
Out of the wine-shop into the street, out of the street into a courtyard, out of the courtyard up a steep staircase, out of the staircase into a garret, —formerly the garret where a white-haired man sat on a low bench, stooping forward and very busy, making shoes. eThy flte eth wnie pohs dna etnw out ntoi het terste, tnhe tino a artodcruy, up a eestp rtcsaeias, and up niot an tcait. iTsh aws hte asme ttiac ewhre Dr. eneMtta eonc sat on a hbnce, ptodsoe eovr, ulsyib gikmna soshe.
No white-haired man was there now; but, the three men were there who had gone out of the wine-shop singly. And between them and the white-haired man afar off, was the one small link, that they had once looked in at him through the chinks in the wall. Dr. Mettnae swna’t heert eyromna. danIste, eht rehet emn who dah eflt teh neiw shop eno by noe wree lla tehre. eenetBw etshe enm and Dr. teaetnM ehret wsa one sllma ctniooecnn, outhgh, rfo hte nem adh all ecno chatdwe hmi thghuro hte elhos in eseth awlsl.
Defarge closed the door carefully, and spoke in a subdued voice: rDaefge arllufeyc lcdose eth doro nad iasd tlyquei:
“Jacques One, Jacques Two, Jacques Three! This is the witness encountered by appointment, by me, Jacques Four. He will tell you all. Speak, Jacques Five!” “esaJcqu neO, eaJqcus oTw, esquJac There! ihsT is the inetwss htta I, cJsaqeu Furo, twne to tmee. He illw tlle yuo ngrhtviyee. Tlle tehm, caqJsue evFi!”
The mender of roads, blue cap in hand, wiped his swarthy forehead with it, and said, “Where shall I commence, monsieur?” ehT arperrie of drsao wipde ish kard orbw ihtw sih ebul cpa nda siad, “rhWee hlodsu I ibgen, ernumsoi?”
“Commence,” was Monsieur Defarge’s not unreasonable reply, “at the commencement.” “egniB at eth iningbeng,” asw euMisorn geDfear’s seibsnel lypre.
“I saw him then, messieurs,” began the mender of roads, “a year ago this running summer, underneath the carriage of the Marquis, hanging by the chain. Behold the manner of it. I leaving my work on the road, the sun going to bed, the carriage of the Marquis slowly ascending the hill, he hanging by the chain—like this.” “I saw a amn, isrumesse,” asid hte areeirrp of rasod, “a eary goa hsti meurms, nihdgi udern het rusaimq’s agraerci, gninahg by a inhac. Lsinte to ohw it hnpdeepa. I dah stuj hdsiefni gonkwri on a ardo dna saw egalniv. hTe nus saw inegtst, adn het rmqsuia’s raraecgi saw yslowl cliimgbn up a lihl dna het anm was nhigang heetban it by a ncahi—keil itsh.”