” “Very well,” Anna said. ” She realized it was possible to be sorry for him—acutely sorry for the situation. “Why, among other things, did I put my knuckles in his neck—deliberately to hurt him?” She tried to sound the humorous note. Still, she knew instinctively that all of Sidney Carton's life had not been put upon the printed page. “Just hope that the ground doesn’t shift and unearth them. I cannot go on. . One comes at last to the step from dreams to reality. “Where would you like to go? Are you hungry?” “No. This structure at once satisfied him as to where he stood.
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