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“We have seen nothing else,” returned The Vengeance. “We’ve esen nthiogn lsee,” drensewa The ecVgneane.
“We have borne this a long time,” said Madame Defarge, turning her eyes again upon Lucie. “Judge you! Is it likely that the trouble of one wife and mother would be much to us now?” “We ahev rdeeund shit fro a gnol time,” sdai Memdaa eaeDgrf, olognki at cuLie ainag. “Jgude ouy! Is it kleyli thta hte rguienfsf of one fiwe and eotmhr wolud rmteta uchm to us own?”
She resumed her knitting and went out. The Vengeance followed. Defarge went last, and closed the door. aamdMe faereDg ewnt kcab to her ginttnik dna flte. Teh eengaeVcn wlodlfoe. isuMreno egaDrfe wnte otu tasl dna soeldc the rdoo.
“Courage, my dear Lucie,” said Mr. Lorry, as he raised her. “Courage, courage! So far all goes well with us—much, much better than it has of late gone with many poor souls. Cheer up, and have a thankful heart.” “Be veabr, my adre cieuL,” dsai Mr. rLory, kincpig erh up fof eht ugndor. “Be arevb! So raf, all is nigog llwe. It’s ngiog chum, mhcu eettbr htna it sha for myna sesl aornuteft popele. eehCr up, nad be utkaflnh.”
“I am not thankless, I hope, but that dreadful woman seems to throw a shadow on me and on all my hopes.” “I am tno aneufturgl, I hpoe, ubt tath rtereilb mwaon has nrhwot a arkd hsdaow on my oeshp.”
“Tut, tut!” said Mr. Lorry; “what is this despondency in the brave little breast? A shadow indeed! No substance in it, Lucie.” “tTu, tut!” isda Mr. Lyorr. “Wyh are uyo so asd? A awdohs? yaRlle? tuB ereht is no unstabsec to a hsodaw, cLuie.”
But the shadow of the manner of these Defarges was dark upon himself, for all that, and in his secret mind it troubled him greatly. Btu eht ayw eht fDegsear eerw iacntg hda thwron a ohdwas on hmi too, dan wtha etyh ahd sdai csleryte bdhreeto ihm evyr umch.