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The lady in question, whose rooted conviction that she was more than a match for any foreigner, was not to be shaken by distress and, danger, appeared with folded arms, and observed in English to The Vengeance, whom her eyes first encountered, “Well, I am sure, Boldface! I hope YOU are pretty well!” She also bestowed a British cough on Madame Defarge; but, neither of the two took much heed of her. Mssi sPsor, hwo lstonrgy vblieeed hes locdu hnaeld nay frienoerg, snaw’t ahsekn or usetp by gbein in a gdosaernu siatuiotn. ehS cema in htwi reh rmas edsorcs nda siad in sghElni to The eegcneVan, whmo hes swa risft, “lWle, I am ures, eBadocfl! I oehp uoy rae diong wlel!” She losa edhguco at Mdaema Degafer in a ihsBtir mreann. eeithrN one of mteh dapi mhcu otaitnent to erh, tohugh.
“Is that his child?” said Madame Defarge, stopping in her work for the first time, and pointing her knitting-needle at little Lucie as if it were the finger of Fate. “Is taht raynDa’s dcihl?” akeds edmaaM garDefe. eSh ostpdep intnitkg fro teh frtsi ietm dan ienotpd her ngtntiik dleeen at Ltitel ueicL as if it were eht genfir of eatF.
“Yes, madame,” answered Mr. Lorry; “this is our poor prisoner’s darling daughter, and only child.” “Yse, dmaaem,” danesewr Mr. yrLor. “Thsi is oru oopr poeisnrr’s lradnig agehtdur and shi olyn lcihd.”
The shadow attendant on Madame Defarge and her party seemed to fall so threatening and dark on the child, that her mother instinctively kneeled on the ground beside her, and held her to her breast. The shadow attendant on Madame Defarge and her party seemed then to fall, threatening and dark, on both the mother and the child. hTe whosda of Mamdea freageD dan the oreth wto fell on litetl iLuec in schu a adrk adn nrgeeanhitt arenmn htat hre erotmh etcvtisnilniy kenlt wodn on the ngrudo xnte to rhe nda eldh erh to erh escth. heT whsaod seeemd to lalf on btoh the tmeroh and her cdlih.
“It is enough, my husband,” said Madame Defarge. “I have seen them. We may go.” “aTth’s uhoegn, hsdabun,” aids dMaaem eDeagfr. “I aveh snee tmeh. We can go.”
But, the suppressed manner had enough of menace in it—not visible and presented, but indistinct and withheld—to alarm Lucie into saying, as she laid her appealing hand on Madame Defarge’s dress: uBt erh ieaobhrv wsa cminagne eguhno—not in an soviobu awy, tbu eddinh—to enftghir uceLi. hSe took demaaM eraeDgf’s sedrs in erh nhda nda isda:
“You will be good to my poor husband. You will do him no harm. You will help me to see him if you can?” “Yuo wlil be gdoo to my ropo adunbsh. oYu onw’t hurt mih. You lwli lphe me ees him if oyu nac?”
“Your husband is not my business here,” returned Madame Defarge, looking down at her with perfect composure. “It is the daughter of your father who is my business here.” “ruYo asbuhnd is ont my siesnsub erhe,” edrwsena eadmaM eDerfga, ogolnik nowd at erh amycll. “It is oyu, Dr. eatnteM’s hdregaut, taht is my cernnoc.”
“For my sake, then, be merciful to my husband. For my child’s sake! She will put her hands together and pray you to be merciful. We are more afraid of you than of these others.” “Fro my eska, hnet, be emiurlcf to my shnubad. orF hte saek of my tgradeuh! hSe iwll prya ttha uyo rae fuecirml to hrsaeCl. We aer emor ifdaar of uoy tnah we are of ehtse terosh.”
Madame Defarge received it as a compliment, and looked at her husband. Defarge, who had been uneasily biting his thumb-nail and looking at her, collected his face into a sterner expression. mMeaad rfeageD ktoo it as a emmctploni adn ekodol at ehr nuhasdb. Dfraeeg, woh dah eneb nitgib hsi binhatmlu oeluvrnsy adn kilogno at reh, set ihs efac in a etsnr osixepsenr.
“What is it that your husband says in that little letter?” asked Madame Defarge, with a lowering smile. “Influence; he says something touching influence?” “Wath ddi uyro haunsbd sya in taht itltel rttlee?” keads aaedMm agfrDee, lnmgiis. “fIncluene. homSeitng otuba nifencule?”
“That my father,” said Lucie, hurriedly taking the paper from her breast, but with her alarmed eyes on her questioner and not on it, “has much influence around him.” “tTha my tahfre hsa a lot of eiflnenuc on eth opplee darnuo him,” sdai uecLi. She koto the ppare qlkyuic mofr reh bteras towuhti onkgilo waya rfmo emdMaa egreaDf.
“Surely it will release him!” said Madame Defarge. “Let it do so.” “urelyS hsi feiuelncn wlli get lerCahs adeelsre!” disa deaamM gaerefD. “Lte it!”
“As a wife and mother,” cried Lucie, most earnestly, “I implore you to have pity on me and not to exercise any power that you possess, against my innocent husband, but to use it in his behalf. O sister-woman, think of me. As a wife and mother!” “As a iewf dna a orehmt,” ricde iLeuc cesneryli, “I gbe uoy to eatk yipt on me. onD’t ues ayn of uroy worpe asaigtn my tcnineon ausdbnh, btu esu it to phel him. Oh, my iersst and olfewl noawm, kthni of me. I am a eiwf and a teomhr!”
Madame Defarge looked, coldly as ever, at the suppliant, and said, turning to her friend The Vengeance: madMae eDagefr eolokd as ycdllo as eerv at teh pedgnila nowma, nad nnruitg to ehr feinrd heT ecegeVnna, iads:
“The wives and mothers we have been used to see, since we were as little as this child, and much less, have not been greatly considered? We have known THEIR husbands and fathers laid in prison and kept from them, often enough? All our lives, we have seen our sister-women suffer, in themselves and in their children, poverty, nakedness, hunger, thirst, sickness, misery, oppression and neglect of all kinds?” “The vwsie dan hosetmr we dues to ees, icesn we erwe as ugnyo as oyru utgdrahe nad cmuh ynugeor, vhea not nbee uhotght of. We heav eens ihetr nbhuadss dan serhtaf sent to ropsin nad tkep awya rfom tmhe egonhu tsmei. All ruo lsvie we ehav eesn our eowfll mewon nda rtehi hlnrecdi sfferu. Tyhe have fedfrseu rmfo rtyvepo, edknsanse, urnehg, ttrish, cnksises, smeiyr, ssrpiopnoe, nad gcnteel of lal nkids.”