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“I little thought,” said Miss Pross, “that I should ever want to

understand your nonsensical language; but I would give all I have,

except the clothes I wear, to know whether you suspect the truth,

or any part of it.”

Neither of them for a single moment released the other’s eyes.

Madame Defarge had not moved from the spot where she stood

when Miss Pross first became aware of her; but, she now advanced

one step.

“I am a Briton,” said Miss Pross. “I am desperate. I don’t care

an English Twopence for myself. I know that the longer I keep you

here, the greater hope there is for my Ladybird. I’ll not leave a

handful of that dark hair upon your head, if you lay a finger on

me!”

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Thus Miss Pross, with a shake of her head and a flash of her

eyes between every rapid sentence, and every rapid sentence a

whole breath. Thus Miss Pross, who had never struck a blow in

her life.

But, her courage was of that emotional nature that it brought

the irrepressible tears into her eyes. This was a courage that

Madame Defarge so little comprehended as to mistake for

weakness. “Ha, ha!” she laughed, “you poor wretch! What are you

worth! I address myself to that Doctor.” Then she raised her voice

and called out, “Citizen Doctor! Wife of Evremonde! Child of

Evremonde! Any person but this miserable fool