Even now she was dazed. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. She could hear the bell tinkle as the horse shook its head. Beside me on Anna’s table was a pistol.
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