” “I am really curious,” she persisted. ‘I knew it. ” “That is provokingly indefinite,” he answered, a little ruefully. Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. "Attend to me, Mrs. Up to dinner yesterday I did not expect to come to Canton. His glasses were gone. “Earning a salary!” “You’re like a Princess in Exile!” he repeated, overruling her. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. Of what use was the temporary set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled poignancy? Then came another thought, astonishing.
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