no more. If the Republic demands sacrifices from you, without

doubt you as a good patriot will be happy to make them. The

Republic goes before all. The People is supreme. Evremonde, we

are pressed.”

“One word,” the Doctor entreated. “Will you tell me who

denounced him?”

“It is against rule,” answered the first; “but you can ask Him of

Saint Antoine here.”

The Doctor turned his eyes upon that man. Who moved

uneasily on his feet, rubbed his beard a little, and at length said:

“Well! Truly it is against rule. But he is denouncedand

gravelyby the Citizen and Citizeness Defarge. And by one

other.”

“What other?”

“Do you ask, Citizen Doctor?”

“Yes.”

“Then,” said he of Saint Antoine, with a strange look, “you will

be answered tomorrow. Now, I am dumb!”

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

Chapter XXXVIII

A HAND AT CARDS

H

appily unconscious of the new calamity at home, Miss

Pross threaded her way along the narrow streets and

crossed the river by the bridge of the Pont-Neuf,

reckoning in her mind the number of indispensable purchases she

had to make. Mr. Cruncher, with the basket, walked at her side.

They both looked to the right and to the left into most of the shops

they passed, had a wary eye for all gregarious assemblages of

people, and turned out of their road to avoid any very excited

group of talkers. It was a raw evening, and the misty river, blurred

to the eye with blazing lights and to the ear with harsh noises,

showed where the barges were stationed in which the smiths

worked, making guns for the Army of the Republic. Woe to the

man who played tricks with that Army, or got undeserved

promotion in it! Better for him that his beard had never grown, for

the National Razor shaved him close.

Having purchased a few small articles of grocery, and a

measure of oil for the lamp, Miss Pross bethought herself of the

wine they wanted. After peeping into several wine-shops, she

stopped at the sign of The Good Republican Brutus of Antiquity,

not far from the National Palace, once (and twice) the Tuileries,

where the aspect of things rather took her fancy. It had a quieter

look than any other place of the same description they had passed,

and though red with patriotic caps, was not so red as the rest.

Sounding Mr. Cruncher, and finding him of her opinion, Miss

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

Pross resorted to The Good Republican Brutus of Antiquity,

attended by her cavalier.

Slightly observant of the smoky lights; of the people pipe in