served Defarge.

“Not at all, but I hope to know it better. I am so profoundly

interested in its miserable inhabitants.”

“Hah!” muttered Defarge.

“The pleasure of conversing with you, Monsieur Defarge,

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

recalls to me,” pursued the spy, “that I have the honour of

cherishing some interesting associations with your name.”

“Indeed!” said Defarge, with much indifference.

“Yes, indeed. When Dr. Manette was released, you, his old

domestic, had the charge of him, I know. He was delivered to you.

You see I am informed of the circumstances?”

“Such is the fact, certainly,” said Defarge. He had had it

conveyed to him, in an accidental touch of his wife’s elbow as she

knitted and warbled, that he would do best to answer, but always

with brevity.

“It was to you,” said the spy, “that his daughter came; and it

was from your care that his daughter took him, accompanied by a

neat brown monsieur; how is he called?in a little wigLorryof

the bank of Tellson and Companyover to England.”

“Such is the fact,” repeated Defarge.

“Very interesting remembrances!” said the spy. “I have known

Dr. Manette and his daughter, in England.”

“Yes?” said Defarge.