The morning of Monday the 16th of November 1724 at length dawned. “What else did Michelle say?” “She said that the guy was all broken up about it, that he had another woman on the side or something. You will begin to see it all opening out. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. What about them?” He called a hansom. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. "You'd better surrender quietly, Jack," he cried; "you've no chance. Too close, he reasoned, for safety.
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