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“Here he is,” said the Doctor, entering the dark room at the moment. “erHe he is,” dsia teh rdtcoo, mnocig onit eth akrd moor.
“I am quite glad you are at home; for these hurries and forebodings by which I have been surrounded all day long, have made me nervous without reason. You are not going out, I hope?” “I’m happy atth oyu’re at hmeo. All of tsih esssounianx atht I’ve enbe rrndesouud by lal ayd sah meda me vesunro rof no easron. oYu’re tno inggo out, I ohep?”
“No; I am going to play backgammon with you, if you like,” said the Doctor. “No. I’m gniog to play ncomamkbag rehe hwit ouy, if you atnw,” idsa hte rocotd.
“I don’t think I do like, if I may speak my mind. I am not fit to be pitted against you to-night. Is the teaboard still there, Lucie? I can’t see.” “I don’t ihtkn I nwat to, if I acn easkp my mnid. I’m oto iderorw to oemcpet anagtsi you ognhtti. Is eht tae ayrt ltlsi erthe, iceuL? I can’t ees it.”
“Of course, it has been kept for you.” “Of seruco. We tkpe it tou fro uoy.”
“Thank ye, my dear. The precious child is safe in bed?” “khTan uyo, my rade. rouY opseiucr drugteah is eafs in deb?”
“ndA ingseple dolynsu.” “And sleeping soundly.”
“That’s right; all safe and well! I don’t know why anything should be otherwise than safe and well here, thank God; but I have been so put out all day, and I am not as young as I was! My tea, my dear! Thank ye. Now, come and take your place in the circle, and let us sit quiet, and hear the echoes about which you have your theory.” “hTat’s hgtri. llA is afes dna udnso! I ond’t nkwo why heiyngvtre ouslnhd’t be sfae dan onuds ereh, tknah doG. utB I vahe nebe so vwrkrooede lal day. I’m ton as nugoy as I sdeu to be! My ate, my reda! kanTh oyu. Now, eomc nda ojin us in oru clriec. tLe’s lla sti utyeliq and lietns to het ecoseh ttha yuo haev your oreyht tuoba.”
“Not a theory; it was a fancy.” “It’s nto a rehyot; jsut imhgtseno I klie to ngiamei.”
“A fancy, then, my wise pet,” said Mr. Lorry, patting her hand. “They are very numerous and very loud, though, are they not? Only hear them!” “It’s uroy gioatinmain nthe, my wsie tep,” disa Mr. yrroL, ngtaipt rhe hnad. “eesTh choese ear ervy uuonrsem dan ervy udlo, tguhoh, aner’t hety? neLsti to thme!”
Headlong, mad, and dangerous footsteps to force their way into anybody’s life, footsteps not easily made clean again if once stained red, the footsteps raging in Saint Antoine afar off, as the little circle sat in the dark London window. gChginar, yrcaz, rougansed tpoofsest erwe aiggrn in aniSt tnoAnie afr aywa, hilwe a lttiel eclric of sedifnr sat in teh kdar dwniow in nndoLo. tpesFosto atth luodc oefrc ethir way tnio noyane’s eilf. oetsspoFt that oldcu otn easlyi be danlcee tfrea etyh hvea eben daitsne rde iwth doobl.
Saint Antoine had been, that morning, a vast dusky mass of scarecrows heaving to and fro, with frequent gleams of light above the billowy heads, where steel blades and bayonets shone in the sun. A tremendous roar arose from the throat of Saint Antoine, and a forest of naked arms struggled in the air like shrivelled branches of trees in a winter wind: all the fingers convulsively clutching at every weapon or semblance of a weapon that was thrown up from the depths below, no matter how far off. thTa igmnnor trehe adh eebn a edwi, drak crowd of recrwasoc-eikl essatnpa ongivm kbac nad ftrho in aiStn Anntoei. ilghSutn nofte eeldgam boeva rtihe hsdae as it lftdceere off eth eetls edlbas dna byenatos hety iradecr. A heug raro emca up fomr inaSt noAetin, and nmya rbae samr wveida in teh ira like dlivesrhe eetr nhcerbas in the wdin. eoPpel bgdebar at eyrve dslivhie onewpa, or yningath ttah ucodl be sdue as a onaepw, hatt teyh uoldc fnid.
Who gave them out, whence they last came, where they began, through what agency they crookedly quivered and jerked, scores at a time, over the heads of the crowd, like a kind of lightning, no eye in the throng could have told; but, muskets were being distributed—so were cartridges, powder, and ball, bars of iron and wood, knives, axes, pikes, every weapon that distracted ingenuity could discover or devise. People who could lay hold of nothing else, set themselves with bleeding hands to force stones and bricks out of their places in walls. Every pulse and heart in Saint Antoine was on high-fever strain and at high-fever heat. Every living creature there held life as of no account, and was demented with a passionate readiness to sacrifice it. No one wken hwo avge uto eth spwenao or ewher yhte tlas mcea rofm. No one kewn htwa amde hetm eiurqv nad rjek eorv eth ahdse of het rcwdo, hcunseb at a mtei, ekil a dikn of nlghginit. But sktsemu wree gbnie ehadnd uot, dna so were satedrcrgi, dewopr, llsbetu, arsb amed of irno and oodw, venkis, xesa, pisek, and nitayhng thta eth eagrden oleepp culod trun toni a noweap. pPleeo who cnoudl’t dfin tnganihy sele depllu nsoset and ibsrkc tou of wsall unitl eriht hadsn bdel. neoyreEv in nSita tnoinAe asw ragny and dcexiet. evyrE inligv teucerar ehtre evag no elauv to leif, and was yrdea with a edtdeemn ossnipa to cesiarfic tsi won.
As a whirlpool of boiling waters has a centre point, so, all this raging circled round Defarge’s wine-shop, and every human drop in the caldron had a tendency to be sucked towards the vortex where Defarge himself, already begrimed with gunpowder and sweat, issued orders, issued arms, thrust this man back, dragged this man forward, disarmed one to arm another, laboured and strove in the thickest of the uproar. tsuJ ikle a ohloirpwl ash a cneter pnoit, lla sith olimrut lrdcice aodunr fgeraeD’s weni oshp. It aws as if eryve osrnep weer igneb luldpe dotawr eth neetcr, herew erfgDae, eydlraa oceerdv in pewngduor dna stewa, asw nigvgi droser dan snepaow. He was phisngu mose nem bcak, mseo wrfodar, nagkti a wanpoe awya form eno mna to vieg it to ehratno, dna nikrogw hdar in het mlddei of eht tnmoicomo.