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PinkMonkey.com Digital Library - A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens


153

“Well!” said Defarge, with a half complaining and half apologetic
shrug. “We shall not see the triumph.” “We shall have helped it,”
returned madame, with her extended hand in strong action.
“Nothing that we do, is done in vain. I believe, with all my soul,
that we shall see the triumph. But even if not, even if I knew
certainly not, show me the neck of an aristocrat and tyrant, and still
I would--” Then madame, with her teeth set, tied a very terrible
knot indeed.

“Hold!” cried Defarge, reddening a little as if he felt charged with
cowardice; “I too, my dear, will stop at nothing.”

“Yes! But it is your weakness that you sometimes need to see your
victim and your opportunity, to sustain you. Sustain yourself
without that. When the time comes, let loose a tiger and a devil;
but wait for the time with the tiger and the devil chained-not
shown-yet always ready.” Madame enforced the conclusion of this
piece of advice by striking her little counter with her chain of
money as if she knocked its brains out, and then gathering the
heavy handkerchief under her arm in a serene manner, and
observing that it was time to go to bed.

Next noontide saw the admirable woman in her usual place in the
wine-shop, knitting away assiduously. A rose lay beside her, and if
she now and then glanced at the flower, it was with no infraction
of her usual preoccupied air. There were a few customers, drinking
or not drinking, standing or seated, sprinkled about. The day was
very hot, and heaps of flies, who were extending their inquisitive
and adventurous perquisitions into all the glutinous little glasses
near madame, fell dead at the bottom. Their decease made no
impression on the other flies out promenading, who looked at
them in the coolest manner (as if they themselves were elephants,
or something as far removed), until they met the same fate.
Curious to consider how heedless flies are!- perhaps they thought
as much at Court that sunny summer day.

A figure entering at the door threw a shadow on Madame Defarge
which she felt to be a new one. She laid down her knitting, and
began to pin her rose in her head-dress, before she looked at the
figure.

It was curious. The moment Madame Defarge took up the rose, the
customers ceased talking, and began gradually to drop out of the
wineshop.

“Good day, madame,” said the new-comer.
“Good day, monsieur.” She said it aloud, but added to herself, as
she resumed her knitting: “Hah! Good day, age about forty, height
about five feet nine, black hair, generally rather handsome visage,
complexion dark, eyes dark, thin, long and sallow face, aquiline
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