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nd make amends for what he would have undug

if it wos soby diggin’ of ’em in with a will, and with conwictions

respectin’ the futur’ keepin’ of ’em safe. That, Mr. Lorry,” said Mr.

Cruncher, wiping his forehead with his arm, as an announcement

that he had arrived at the peroration of his discourse, “is wot I

would respectfully offer to you, sir. A man don’t see all this here a

goin’ on dreadful round him, in the way of Subjects without heads,

dear me, plentiful enough fur to bring the price down to porterage

and hardly that, without havin’ his serious thoughts of things. And

these here would be mine, if it wos so, entreatin’ of you fur to bear

in mind that wot I said just now, I up and said in the good cause

when I might have kep’ it back.”

“That at least is true,” said Mr. Lorry. “Say no more now. It

may be that I shall yet stand your friend, if you deserve it, and

repent in actionnot in words. I want no more words.”

Mr. Cruncher knuckled his forehead, as Sydney Carton and the

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

spy returned from the dark room. “Adieu, Mr. Barsad,” said the

former; “our arrangement thus made, you have nothing to fear

from me.”

He sat down in a chair on the hearth, over against Mr. Lorry.

When they were alone, Mr. Lorry asked him what he had done?

“Not much. If it should go ill with the prisoner, I have ensure