s glass. “Ah! and good

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wine. I drink to the Republic.”

Defarge went back to the counter, and said, “Certainly, a little

like.” Madame sternly retorted, “I tell you a good deal like.”

Jacques Three pacifically remarked, “He is so much in your mind,

see you, madame.” The amiable Vengeance added, with a laugh.

“Yes, my faith! And you are looking forward with so much

pleasure to seeing him once more tomorrow!”

Carton followed the lines and words of his paper, with a slow

forefinger, and with a studious and absorbed face. They were all

leaning their arms on the counter close together, speaking low.

After a silence of a few moments, during which they all looked

towards him without disturbing his outward attention from the

Jacobin editor, they resumed their conversation.

“It is true what madame says,” observed Jacques Three. “Why

stop? There is great force in that. Why stop?”

“Well, well,” reasoned Defarge, “but one must stop somewhere.

After all, the question is still where?”

“At extermination,” said madame.

“Magnificent!” croaked Jacques Three. The Vengeance, also,

highly approved.

“Extermination is good doctrine, my wife,” said Defarge, rather

troubled; “in general, I say nothing against it. But this Doctor has