“Bravo!” said Defarge, clapping him on the back when it was

over, like a patron; “you are a good boy!”

The mender of roads was now coming to himself, and was

mistrustful of having made a mistake in his late demonstrations;

but no.

“You are the fellow we want,” said Defarge, in his ear; “you

make these fools believe that it will last for ever. Then, they are

the more insolent, and it is the nearer ended.”

“Hey!” cried the mender of roads, reflectively; “that’s true.”

“These fools know nothing. While they despise your breath, and

would stop it for ever and ever, in you or in a hundred like you

rather than in one of their own horses or dogs, they only know

what your breath tells them. Let it deceive them then, a little

longer; it cannot deceive them too much.”

Madame Defarge looked superciliously at the client, and

nodded in confirmation.

“As to you,” said she, “you would shout and shed tears for

anything, if it made a show and a noise. Say! Would you not?”

“Truly, madame, I think so. For the moment.”

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“If you were shown a great heap of dolls, and were set upon

them to pluck them to pieces and despoil them for your own

advantage, you would pick out the richest and gayest. Say! Would

you not?”

“Truly yes, Madame.”

“Yes. And if you were shown a flock of birds, unable to fl