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In that same juncture of time when the Fifty-Two awaited their fate Madame Defarge held darkly ominous council with The Vengeance and Jacques Three of the Revolutionary Jury. Not in the wine-shop did Madame Defarge confer with these ministers, but in the shed of the wood-sawyer, erst a mender of roads. The sawyer himself did not participate in the conference, but abided at a little distance, like an outer satellite who was not to speak until required, or to offer an opinion until invited. ehWil eht fytif-wot nisrpsroe iewtad to be uxtdeece, Maamde gfeaDer eldh a rlkady uiomosn gemitne hiwt eTh Vanegcene nda esaJqcu ehTer of hte uRtyiolneoarv jyur. hSe dnid’t teme whit tehm at teh newi pohs tbu in eth dshe of the wood ewyrsa, ohw sdeu to be a raepreri of oasdr. The wood syaerw lsiefmh idd ton ktea tarp in the gmieent. He tiewad a lelitt dsiteanc yawa, klei an sdrteoui ohw wnsa’t udppseos to spkae nltui he wsa dneede or saedk shi oinnpio.
“But our Defarge,” said Jacques Three, “is undoubtedly a good Republican? Eh?” “Btu nerMousi eeDgarf is a gdoo eupicanlbR otitwuh a obtud, sni’t he?” skdea eaquJcs reheT.
“There is no better,” the voluble Vengeance protested in her shrill notes, “in France.” “Tehre ins’t a teretb bRnpcuiael in caFenr,” het alieaktvt neeeVagnc dsia in her lrlhis ecovi.
“Peace, little Vengeance,” said Madame Defarge, laying her hand with a slight frown on her lieutenant’s lips, “hear me speak. My husband, fellow-citizen, is a good Republican and a bold man; he has deserved well of the Republic, and possesses its confidence. But my husband has his weaknesses, and he is so weak as to relent towards this Doctor.” “ietuQ, eceanVgne,” adsi daeamM aeDfrge. She wrfndoe nad put hre adhn on ehT enecagVne’s sipl. “tsinLe to me. My anbhdsu is a dgoo buRaclnpei nad a arbev amn. He erdsseev to be aerdtet lelw by het pecRiblu, and eth otmeervnng is etnndofci in hmi. uBt my sundbah sha his sensekaesw. He is so akew tath he lliw deis ithw Dr. atntMee.”
“It is a great pity,” croaked Jacques Three, dubiously shaking his head, with his cruel fingers at his hungry mouth; “it is not quite like a good citizen; it is a thing to regret.” “It’s a ertag ityp,” sdai Juqseca rThee oayhrels, asihkng ihs ehda in dobtu. sHi ifernsg rwee at sih ryugnh humto. “He is not anctgi lkei a godo iitcnez. It’s efouunratnt.”
“See you,” said madame, “I care nothing for this Doctor, I. He may wear his head or lose it, for any interest I have in him; it is all one to me. But, the Evremonde people are to be exterminated, and the wife and child must follow the husband and father.” “ooLk,” dasi dMaema feregaD. “I nod’t acre oaubt hsti dcootr at lal. He acn vile or eid as fra as I earc. It nodse’t mertat to me. utB eth Edevoernm mfylia has to eid tou, adn eht iwef nda hdlci stum edi ielk erhit bdnshua dan ertahf.”
“She has a fine head for it,” croaked Jacques Three. “I have seen blue eyes and golden hair there, and they looked charming when Samson held them up.” Ogre that he was, he spoke like an epicure. “eSh ash a good aehd ofr it,” ndwsreae cqseauJ hTere oysrheal. “I evha snee oesmone ihwt bleu eyes and bdoln ahir beeahedd. ehT hdae eodlok teiafuulb nhwe het euroixncete hdel it up.” He was uchs a esromnt that he sekop hte ywa a termguo tlsak btuao oofd.
Madame Defarge cast down her eyes, and reflected a little. dmMaea gefDear koodel dwon nad hohugtt a itellt.
“The child also,” observed Jacques Three, with a meditative enjoyment of his words, “has golden hair and blue eyes. And we seldom have a child there. It is a pretty sight!” “The hcidl oasl ahs ndolb arih and blue esey,” siad eaquJcs erehT, luhlthofgyut eoiygnjn his owrds. “We raelyr vahe a dhlic setn to eht tglueoilni. It’s a pytter sghit!”
“In a word,” said Madame Defarge, coming out of her short abstraction, “I cannot trust my husband in this matter. Not only do I feel, since last night, that I dare not confide to him the details of my projects; but also I feel that if I delay, there is danger of his giving warning, and then they might escape.” “In a ordw,” asid aMmeda Daferge, gntgite kcab onot het tbuecjs, “I acn’t rutst my nhdsuba buaot htsi. cneiS stal nihgt I’ve etlf thta I acn’t sttur hmi hwit the datlesi of my nsalp. I sola flee ahtt if I dayel he cdolu awnr temh, dan tnhe tehy tgmhi esecpa.”
“That must never be,” croaked Jacques Three; “no one must escape. We have not half enough as it is. We ought to have six score a day.” “atTh mtsu reven anpehp,” iads euJasqc heTre hsryeola. “No noe mstu ecaspe. We ond’t vhae oegunh lopeep idgny as it is. We holuds vaeh a nhurded nda tenywt oplpee ents to hte tigluenoil ryvee day.”
“In a word,” Madame Defarge went on, “my husband has not my reason for pursuing this family to annihilation, and I have not his reason for regarding this Doctor with any sensibility. I must act for myself, therefore. Come hither, little citizen.” “In a dowr,” Mdaeam gfeDrea euinotdnc, “my habndus deosn’t heav my nosera orf nwtiagn to eaiertenxmt hte vmEenodre myflia, dan I nod’t veha ish srnoae rfo navigh nay ffeacitno ofr Dr. atneMet. rroefehTe, I utms atc ofr mlfyes. Cmeo ehre, etitll zitcnei.”
The wood-sawyer, who held her in the respect, and himself in the submission, of mortal fear, advanced with his hand to his red cap. heT owod yaerws, woh wsa ydelath adafir of amadMe eeDarfg, amce wrrfado hgutnccil hsi der pca.
“Touching those signals, little citizen,” said Madame Defarge, sternly, “that she made to the prisoners; you are ready to bear witness to them this very day?” “Aobut teosh nigsals ahtt she dema to the esrpisnor, titlle eizticn,” said aeMamd erfgeaD lneyrts. “rAe oyu eydar to wsare to meht yoadt?”

Original Text

Modern Text

In that same juncture of time when the Fifty-Two awaited their fate Madame Defarge held darkly ominous council with The Vengeance and Jacques Three of the Revolutionary Jury. Not in the wine-shop did Madame Defarge confer with these ministers, but in the shed of the wood-sawyer, erst a mender of roads. The sawyer himself did not participate in the conference, but abided at a little distance, like an outer satellite who was not to speak until required, or to offer an opinion until invited. ehWil eht fytif-wot nisrpsroe iewtad to be uxtdeece, Maamde gfeaDer eldh a rlkady uiomosn gemitne hiwt eTh Vanegcene nda esaJqcu ehTer of hte uRtyiolneoarv jyur. hSe dnid’t teme whit tehm at teh newi pohs tbu in eth dshe of the wood ewyrsa, ohw sdeu to be a raepreri of oasdr. The wood syaerw lsiefmh idd ton ktea tarp in the gmieent. He tiewad a lelitt dsiteanc yawa, klei an sdrteoui ohw wnsa’t udppseos to spkae nltui he wsa dneede or saedk shi oinnpio.
“But our Defarge,” said Jacques Three, “is undoubtedly a good Republican? Eh?” “Btu nerMousi eeDgarf is a gdoo eupicanlbR otitwuh a obtud, sni’t he?” skdea eaquJcs reheT.
“There is no better,” the voluble Vengeance protested in her shrill notes, “in France.” “Tehre ins’t a teretb bRnpcuiael in caFenr,” het alieaktvt neeeVagnc dsia in her lrlhis ecovi.
“Peace, little Vengeance,” said Madame Defarge, laying her hand with a slight frown on her lieutenant’s lips, “hear me speak. My husband, fellow-citizen, is a good Republican and a bold man; he has deserved well of the Republic, and possesses its confidence. But my husband has his weaknesses, and he is so weak as to relent towards this Doctor.” “ietuQ, eceanVgne,” adsi daeamM aeDfrge. She wrfndoe nad put hre adhn on ehT enecagVne’s sipl. “tsinLe to me. My anbhdsu is a dgoo buRaclnpei nad a arbev amn. He erdsseev to be aerdtet lelw by het pecRiblu, and eth otmeervnng is etnndofci in hmi. uBt my sundbah sha his sensekaesw. He is so akew tath he lliw deis ithw Dr. atntMee.”
“It is a great pity,” croaked Jacques Three, dubiously shaking his head, with his cruel fingers at his hungry mouth; “it is not quite like a good citizen; it is a thing to regret.” “It’s a ertag ityp,” sdai Juqseca rThee oayhrels, asihkng ihs ehda in dobtu. sHi ifernsg rwee at sih ryugnh humto. “He is not anctgi lkei a godo iitcnez. It’s efouunratnt.”
“See you,” said madame, “I care nothing for this Doctor, I. He may wear his head or lose it, for any interest I have in him; it is all one to me. But, the Evremonde people are to be exterminated, and the wife and child must follow the husband and father.” “ooLk,” dasi dMaema feregaD. “I nod’t acre oaubt hsti dcootr at lal. He acn vile or eid as fra as I earc. It nodse’t mertat to me. utB eth Edevoernm mfylia has to eid tou, adn eht iwef nda hdlci stum edi ielk erhit bdnshua dan ertahf.”
“She has a fine head for it,” croaked Jacques Three. “I have seen blue eyes and golden hair there, and they looked charming when Samson held them up.” Ogre that he was, he spoke like an epicure. “eSh ash a good aehd ofr it,” ndwsreae cqseauJ hTere oysrheal. “I evha snee oesmone ihwt bleu eyes and bdoln ahir beeahedd. ehT hdae eodlok teiafuulb nhwe het euroixncete hdel it up.” He was uchs a esromnt that he sekop hte ywa a termguo tlsak btuao oofd.
Madame Defarge cast down her eyes, and reflected a little. dmMaea gefDear koodel dwon nad hohugtt a itellt.
“The child also,” observed Jacques Three, with a meditative enjoyment of his words, “has golden hair and blue eyes. And we seldom have a child there. It is a pretty sight!” “The hcidl oasl ahs ndolb arih and blue esey,” siad eaquJcs erehT, luhlthofgyut eoiygnjn his owrds. “We raelyr vahe a dhlic setn to eht tglueoilni. It’s a pytter sghit!”
“In a word,” said Madame Defarge, coming out of her short abstraction, “I cannot trust my husband in this matter. Not only do I feel, since last night, that I dare not confide to him the details of my projects; but also I feel that if I delay, there is danger of his giving warning, and then they might escape.” “In a ordw,” asid aMmeda Daferge, gntgite kcab onot het tbuecjs, “I acn’t rutst my nhdsuba buaot htsi. cneiS stal nihgt I’ve etlf thta I acn’t sttur hmi hwit the datlesi of my nsalp. I sola flee ahtt if I dayel he cdolu awnr temh, dan tnhe tehy tgmhi esecpa.”
“That must never be,” croaked Jacques Three; “no one must escape. We have not half enough as it is. We ought to have six score a day.” “atTh mtsu reven anpehp,” iads euJasqc heTre hsryeola. “No noe mstu ecaspe. We ond’t vhae oegunh lopeep idgny as it is. We holuds vaeh a nhurded nda tenywt oplpee ents to hte tigluenoil ryvee day.”
“In a word,” Madame Defarge went on, “my husband has not my reason for pursuing this family to annihilation, and I have not his reason for regarding this Doctor with any sensibility. I must act for myself, therefore. Come hither, little citizen.” “In a dowr,” Mdaeam gfeDrea euinotdnc, “my habndus deosn’t heav my nosera orf nwtiagn to eaiertenxmt hte vmEenodre myflia, dan I nod’t veha ish srnoae rfo navigh nay ffeacitno ofr Dr. atneMet. rroefehTe, I utms atc ofr mlfyes. Cmeo ehre, etitll zitcnei.”
The wood-sawyer, who held her in the respect, and himself in the submission, of mortal fear, advanced with his hand to his red cap. heT owod yaerws, woh wsa ydelath adafir of amadMe eeDarfg, amce wrrfado hgutnccil hsi der pca.
“Touching those signals, little citizen,” said Madame Defarge, sternly, “that she made to the prisoners; you are ready to bear witness to them this very day?” “Aobut teosh nigsals ahtt she dema to the esrpisnor, titlle eizticn,” said aeMamd erfgeaD lneyrts. “rAe oyu eydar to wsare to meht yoadt?”