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her head, and giving them a quick look. Then she glanced in a

casual manner round the wine-shop, took up her knitting with

great apparent calmness and repose of spirit and became

absorbed in it.

“Gentlemen,” said her husband, who had kept his bright eye

observantly upon her, “good day. The chamber, furnished

bachelor-fashion, that you wished to see, and were inquiring for

when I stepped out, is on the fifth floor. The doorway of the

staircase gives on the little courtyard close to the left here,”

pointing with his hand, “near to the window of my establishment.

But, now that I remember, one of you has already been there, and

can show the way. Gentlemen, adieu!”

They paid for their wine and left the place. The eyes of

Monsieur Defarge were studying his wife at her knitting when the

elderly gentleman advanced from his corner, and begged the

favour of a word.

“Willingly, sir,” said Monsieur Defarge, and quietly stepped

with him to the door.

Their conference was very short, but very decided. Almost at

the first word, Monsieur Defarge started and became deeply

attentive. It had not lasted a minute, when he nodded and went

out. The gentleman then beckoned to the young lady, and they,

too, went out. Madame Defarge knitted with nimble fingers and