‘And it is not only a question of her identity, but a matter of her life as well. To—to find myself. His pulses beat fast as he walked, his feet fell lightly upon the pavement. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand. But he was so feeble, that it seemed scarcely possible he could offer any effectual resistance in case of an attack. And while her son was reconveyed to prison the body of the unfortunate Mrs. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct. I really cannot have anything to do with Mr. I will go to-night.
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This video was uploaded to thiruvalluvan.com on 18-09-2024 19:01:09
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