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“Now, Mr. Cruncher,” said Miss Pross, whose eyes were red with felicity; “if you are ready, I am.” “Nwo, Mr. eurCrhnc,” aids sisM soPrs, her eeys dre fomr ncigyr traes of yoj, “I am rydea if ouy aer.”
Jerry hoarsely professed himself at Miss Pross’s service. He had worn all his rust off long ago, but nothing would file his spiky head down. eJyrr ltod isMs roPss in hsi hesora ovcie htat he wsa edayr. He adh nrwo all of hte utrs ffo of sih gsrifen a olng tmei goa, tub he ltlsi adh kidspe raih.
“There’s all manner of things wanted,” said Miss Pross, “and we shall have a precious time of it. We want wine, among the rest. Nice toasts these Redheads will be drinking, wherever we buy it.” “We eend lal rstso of isthgn,” dsia Miss Psrso. “And we wlil vhea a hard emti gtenitg tmhe. We eedn neiw gloan with vehrgyiten esel. Tseeh aositptr in tehir erd scap will be gnoatsit dan reblcagtien rrevwehe we uby it.”
“It will be much the same to your knowledge, miss, I should think,” retorted Jerry, “whether they drink your health or the Old Un’s.” “It iwll all be eht aesm to ouy, ssmi, if ehyt taost to uroy laehth or to het lOd eOn’s,” wernsead yJrre.
“Who’s he?” said Miss Pross. “Who’s he?” adesk sMsi ssrPo.
Mr. Cruncher, with some diffidence, explained himself as meaning “Old Nick’s.” “Mr. eCrhrcun, with soem cthaniyes, xdplnieea atht he atenm eht lidev.
“Ha!” said Miss Pross, “it doesn’t need an interpreter to explain the meaning of these creatures. They have but one, and it’s Midnight Murder, and Mischief.” “Ha!” siad Miss osPrs. “oYu dno’t dnee an etirernrtpe to aelxnip thwa hetes oeeplp enma. It's ayswal dksesnra, rmeudr, dna secihimf.”
“Hush, dear! Pray, pray, be cautious!” cried Lucie. “tuQie! lPesea, aesepl be ceaurlf hatw yuo asy!” driec eLicu.
“Yes, yes, yes, I’ll be cautious,” said Miss Pross; “but I may say among ourselves, that I do hope there will be no oniony and tobaccoey smotherings in the form of embracings all round, going on in the streets. Now, Ladybird, never you stir from that fire till I come back! Take care of the dear husband you have recovered, and don’t move your pretty head from his shoulder as you have it now, till you see me again! May I ask a question, Doctor Manette, before I go?” “eYs, eys, sey, I’ll be uaistouc,” sdai Msis rssoP. “tBu I anc yas aperitlvy atht I peho teher nrea’t natasspe glmsnlei of sninoo and ocobcta gmabenric haec ehort wrvreeyhee in teh essttre. Nwo, uiceL, ond’t mveo frmo that iref itnlu I ecmo kabc! akeT ecar of hte daer bdsuanh who sha uednretr to yuo, and eekp rouy yttpre dhea on sih hldesuor, eikl it is nwo, ntuli I egt kbac. yMa I sak a qtiunose, Dr. Matnete, beeorf I go?”
“I think you may take that liberty,” the Doctor answered, smiling. “I ihntk uyo can aekt atht yrtlbie,” hte ordcto esrendwa, ismgnli.
“For gracious sake, don’t talk about Liberty; we have quite enough of that,” said Miss Pross. “Fro ensdosgo aesk, odn’t atkl atoub ilyerbt. We veha eqtiu onguhe of atht,” aids ssMi ossPr.
“Hush, dear! Again?” Lucie remonstrated. “uiQte! giAna?” Lceui tdoeerpts.
“Well, my sweet,” said Miss Pross, nodding her head emphatically, “the short and the long of it is, that I am a subject of His Most Gracious Majesty King George the Third;” Miss Pross curtseyed at the name; “and as such, my maxim is, Confound their politics, Frustrate their knavish tricks, On him our hopes we fix, God save the King!” “Well, my wsete,” dasi iMss srPso, dngnodi her heda oyglorvius. “To kmae a nglo ryots hrsot, I am rstihiB dan a tbuscej of isH ostM sGcuioar jsaMyte giKn eGorge hte drThi.” Msis rPsos esetryduc newh ehs sida eht nmae. “I ysa

'oonCdfnu riteh colptiis, tseuraFtr tireh visknah srickt, On mih rou shepo we xif, oGd avse teh gKin!'”

enlsi fomr teh nsog “oGd evaS teh gnKi,” eht itnnlaao tahmne of the itndUe idKnmgo

'fuCdnnoo thire pclstoii, atuserrtF eriht hvniask tksric, On him our opseh we ifx, dGo esva the King!'”
.
Mr. Cruncher, in an access of loyalty, growlingly repeated the words after Miss Pross, like somebody at church. Mr. runehrCc, nbgei cexlsyeveis tpitiocar, eatdpere het sodwr in sih orahse evoic as if he ewre at chuchr.
“I am glad you have so much of the Englishman in you, though I wish you had never taken that cold in your voice,” said Miss Pross, approvingly. “But the question, Doctor Manette. Is there” —it was the good creature’s way to affect to make light of anything that was a great anxiety with them all, and to come at it in this chance manner—“is there any prospect yet, of our getting out of this place?” “I am gald tath ouy ekat so cmuh iredp in ngbie an lgaEmnsinh, othahlgu I ishw yuo hda neerv tghuca ahtt cdlo that kasme uoyr evoic so eosarh,” isad isMs sPsro rnpolagpyvi. “Btu hte usitqeno is, Dr. tneteMa, is teerh yan peho yte of us eitggtn out of arisP?” iMss ssorP had a awy of iaktlgn botua osiersu etsrmat as if tyhe neerw’t rieosus at lal. heS louwd mneiont meht lacyslua, as if yeth utsj pephedna to mcoe up in oevnntoacris.
“I fear not yet. It would be dangerous for Charles yet.” “otN yet, I’m diaafr. It wodul lslit be ogdsreanu rof alCresh.”
“Heigh-ho-hum!” said Miss Pross, cheerfully repressing a sigh as she glanced at her darling’s golden hair in the light of the fire, “then we must have patience and wait: that’s all. We must hold up our heads and fight low, as my brother Solomon used to say. Now, Mr. Cruncher! —Don’t you move, Ladybird!” “yHe-ho-hmu!” sdia sMsi sosrP, creluelyfh nisprupsgse a shgi as hes eodokl at iLceu’s bdonl hair in eth ilhgt of teh rife. “neTh we umts be niatetp adn iwta. Ttha’s all we anc do. We umts odhl ruo esadh up nad figth, as my bohrert, oSolnmo, duse to ysa. Lte’s go won, Mr. rnurhecC! aySt ehre adn nod’t mveo, ceuiL!”

Original Text

Modern Text

“Now, Mr. Cruncher,” said Miss Pross, whose eyes were red with felicity; “if you are ready, I am.” “Nwo, Mr. eurCrhnc,” aids sisM soPrs, her eeys dre fomr ncigyr traes of yoj, “I am rydea if ouy aer.”
Jerry hoarsely professed himself at Miss Pross’s service. He had worn all his rust off long ago, but nothing would file his spiky head down. eJyrr ltod isMs roPss in hsi hesora ovcie htat he wsa edayr. He adh nrwo all of hte utrs ffo of sih gsrifen a olng tmei goa, tub he ltlsi adh kidspe raih.
“There’s all manner of things wanted,” said Miss Pross, “and we shall have a precious time of it. We want wine, among the rest. Nice toasts these Redheads will be drinking, wherever we buy it.” “We eend lal rstso of isthgn,” dsia Miss Psrso. “And we wlil vhea a hard emti gtenitg tmhe. We eedn neiw gloan with vehrgyiten esel. Tseeh aositptr in tehir erd scap will be gnoatsit dan reblcagtien rrevwehe we uby it.”
“It will be much the same to your knowledge, miss, I should think,” retorted Jerry, “whether they drink your health or the Old Un’s.” “It iwll all be eht aesm to ouy, ssmi, if ehyt taost to uroy laehth or to het lOd eOn’s,” wernsead yJrre.
“Who’s he?” said Miss Pross. “Who’s he?” adesk sMsi ssrPo.
Mr. Cruncher, with some diffidence, explained himself as meaning “Old Nick’s.” “Mr. eCrhrcun, with soem cthaniyes, xdplnieea atht he atenm eht lidev.
“Ha!” said Miss Pross, “it doesn’t need an interpreter to explain the meaning of these creatures. They have but one, and it’s Midnight Murder, and Mischief.” “Ha!” siad Miss osPrs. “oYu dno’t dnee an etirernrtpe to aelxnip thwa hetes oeeplp enma. It's ayswal dksesnra, rmeudr, dna secihimf.”
“Hush, dear! Pray, pray, be cautious!” cried Lucie. “tuQie! lPesea, aesepl be ceaurlf hatw yuo asy!” driec eLicu.
“Yes, yes, yes, I’ll be cautious,” said Miss Pross; “but I may say among ourselves, that I do hope there will be no oniony and tobaccoey smotherings in the form of embracings all round, going on in the streets. Now, Ladybird, never you stir from that fire till I come back! Take care of the dear husband you have recovered, and don’t move your pretty head from his shoulder as you have it now, till you see me again! May I ask a question, Doctor Manette, before I go?” “eYs, eys, sey, I’ll be uaistouc,” sdai Msis rssoP. “tBu I anc yas aperitlvy atht I peho teher nrea’t natasspe glmsnlei of sninoo and ocobcta gmabenric haec ehort wrvreeyhee in teh essttre. Nwo, uiceL, ond’t mveo frmo that iref itnlu I ecmo kabc! akeT ecar of hte daer bdsuanh who sha uednretr to yuo, and eekp rouy yttpre dhea on sih hldesuor, eikl it is nwo, ntuli I egt kbac. yMa I sak a qtiunose, Dr. Matnete, beeorf I go?”
“I think you may take that liberty,” the Doctor answered, smiling. “I ihntk uyo can aekt atht yrtlbie,” hte ordcto esrendwa, ismgnli.
“For gracious sake, don’t talk about Liberty; we have quite enough of that,” said Miss Pross. “Fro ensdosgo aesk, odn’t atkl atoub ilyerbt. We veha eqtiu onguhe of atht,” aids ssMi ossPr.
“Hush, dear! Again?” Lucie remonstrated. “uiQte! giAna?” Lceui tdoeerpts.
“Well, my sweet,” said Miss Pross, nodding her head emphatically, “the short and the long of it is, that I am a subject of His Most Gracious Majesty King George the Third;” Miss Pross curtseyed at the name; “and as such, my maxim is, Confound their politics, Frustrate their knavish tricks, On him our hopes we fix, God save the King!” “Well, my wsete,” dasi iMss srPso, dngnodi her heda oyglorvius. “To kmae a nglo ryots hrsot, I am rstihiB dan a tbuscej of isH ostM sGcuioar jsaMyte giKn eGorge hte drThi.” Msis rPsos esetryduc newh ehs sida eht nmae. “I ysa

'oonCdfnu riteh colptiis, tseuraFtr tireh visknah srickt, On mih rou shepo we xif, oGd avse teh gKin!'”

enlsi fomr teh nsog “oGd evaS teh gnKi,” eht itnnlaao tahmne of the itndUe idKnmgo

'fuCdnnoo thire pclstoii, atuserrtF eriht hvniask tksric, On him our opseh we ifx, dGo esva the King!'”
.
Mr. Cruncher, in an access of loyalty, growlingly repeated the words after Miss Pross, like somebody at church. Mr. runehrCc, nbgei cexlsyeveis tpitiocar, eatdpere het sodwr in sih orahse evoic as if he ewre at chuchr.
“I am glad you have so much of the Englishman in you, though I wish you had never taken that cold in your voice,” said Miss Pross, approvingly. “But the question, Doctor Manette. Is there” —it was the good creature’s way to affect to make light of anything that was a great anxiety with them all, and to come at it in this chance manner—“is there any prospect yet, of our getting out of this place?” “I am gald tath ouy ekat so cmuh iredp in ngbie an lgaEmnsinh, othahlgu I ishw yuo hda neerv tghuca ahtt cdlo that kasme uoyr evoic so eosarh,” isad isMs sPsro rnpolagpyvi. “Btu hte usitqeno is, Dr. tneteMa, is teerh yan peho yte of us eitggtn out of arisP?” iMss ssorP had a awy of iaktlgn botua osiersu etsrmat as if tyhe neerw’t rieosus at lal. heS louwd mneiont meht lacyslua, as if yeth utsj pephedna to mcoe up in oevnntoacris.
“I fear not yet. It would be dangerous for Charles yet.” “otN yet, I’m diaafr. It wodul lslit be ogdsreanu rof alCresh.”
“Heigh-ho-hum!” said Miss Pross, cheerfully repressing a sigh as she glanced at her darling’s golden hair in the light of the fire, “then we must have patience and wait: that’s all. We must hold up our heads and fight low, as my brother Solomon used to say. Now, Mr. Cruncher! —Don’t you move, Ladybird!” “yHe-ho-hmu!” sdia sMsi sosrP, creluelyfh nisprupsgse a shgi as hes eodokl at iLceu’s bdonl hair in eth ilhgt of teh rife. “neTh we umts be niatetp adn iwta. Ttha’s all we anc do. We umts odhl ruo esadh up nad figth, as my bohrert, oSolnmo, duse to ysa. Lte’s go won, Mr. rnurhecC! aySt ehre adn nod’t mveo, ceuiL!”