"I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. “That’s it,” she said. So I undertook to protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it whenever it appeared, obliterating it. While he was thus occupied, Thames, prompted by an unaccountable feeling of curiosity, took up the penknife which the other had just used, and examined the haft. ” His eyes were squeezed shut. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. There were the burnt papers still in the grate.
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