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