A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens (best young adult book series .TXT) ๐
Description
A doctor is released from the Bastille after being falsely imprisoned for almost eighteen years. A young woman discovers the father sheโs never known is not dead but alive, if not entirely well. A young man is acquitted of being a traitor, due in part to the efforts of a rather selfish lout who is assisting the young manโs attorney. A man has a wine shop in Paris with a wife who knits at the bar. These disparate elements are tied together as only Dickens can, and in the process he tells the story of the French Revolution.
Charles Dickens was fascinated by Thomas Carlyleโs magnum opus The French Revolution; according to Dickensโ letters, he read it โ500 timesโ and carried it with him everywhere while he was working on this novel. When he wrote to Carlyle asking him for books to read on background, Carlyle sent him two cartloads full. Dickens mimicked Carlyleโs style, his chronology, and his overall characterization of the revolution; although A Tale of Two Cities is fiction, the historical events described are largely accurate, sometimes exactly so. Even so, Dickens made his name and reputation on telling stories full of characters one could be invested in, care about, and despise, and this novel has all of those and more. It also, in its first and last lines, has two of the most famous lines in literature. With the possible exception of A Christmas Carol, it is his most popular novel, and according to many, his best.
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- Author: Charles Dickens
Read book online ยซA Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens (best young adult book series .TXT) ๐ยป. Author - Charles Dickens
Neither of them for a single moment released the otherโs eyes. Madame Defarge had not moved from the spot where she stood when Miss Pross first became aware of her; but, she now advanced one step.
โI am a Briton,โ said Miss Pross, โI am desperate. I donโt care an English Twopence for myself. I know that the longer I keep you here, the greater hope there is for my Ladybird. Iโll not leave a handful of that dark hair upon your head, if you lay a finger on me!โ
Thus Miss Pross, with a shake of her head and a flash of her eyes between every rapid sentence, and every rapid sentence a whole breath. Thus Miss Pross, who had never struck a blow in her life.
But, her courage was of that emotional nature that it brought the irrepressible tears into her eyes. This was a courage that Madame Defarge so little comprehended as to mistake for weakness. โHa, ha!โ she laughed, โyou poor wretch! What are you worth! I address myself to that Doctor.โ Then she raised her voice and called out, โCitizen Doctor! Wife of Evrรฉmonde! Child of Evrรฉmonde! Any person but this miserable fool, answer the Citizeness Defarge!โ
Perhaps the following silence, perhaps some latent disclosure in the expression of Miss Prossโs face, perhaps a sudden misgiving apart from either suggestion, whispered to Madame Defarge that they were gone. Three of the doors she opened swiftly, and looked in.
โThose rooms are all in disorder, there has been hurried packing, there are odds and ends upon the ground. There is no one in that room behind you! Let me look.โ
โNever!โ said Miss Pross, who understood the request as perfectly as Madame Defarge understood the answer.
โIf they are not in that room, they are gone, and can be pursued and brought back,โ said Madame Defarge to herself.
โAs long as you donโt know whether they are in that room or not, you are uncertain what to do,โ said Miss Pross to herself; โand you shall not know that, if I can prevent your knowing it; and know that, or not know that, you shall not leave here while I can hold you.โ
โI have been in the streets from the first, nothing has stopped me, I will tear you to pieces, but I will have you from that door,โ said Madame Defarge.
โWe are alone at the top of a high house in a solitary courtyard, we are not likely to be heard, and I pray for bodily strength to keep you here, while every minute you are here is worth a hundred thousand guineas to my darling,โ said Miss Pross.
Madame Defarge made at the door. Miss Pross, on the instinct of the moment, seized her round the waist in both her arms, and held her tight. It was in vain for Madame Defarge to struggle and to strike; Miss Pross, with the vigorous tenacity of love, always so much stronger than hate, clasped her tight, and even lifted her from the floor in the struggle that they had. The two hands of Madame Defarge buffeted and tore her face; but, Miss Pross, with her head down, held her round the waist, and clung to her with more than the hold of a drowning woman.
Soon, Madame Defargeโs hands ceased to strike, and felt at her encircled waist. โIt is under my arm,โ said Miss Pross, in smothered tones, โyou shall not draw it. I am stronger than you, I bless Heaven for it. I hold you till one or other of us faints or dies!โ
Madame Defargeโs hands were at her bosom. Miss Pross looked up, saw what it was, struck at it, struck out a flash and a crash, and stood aloneโ โblinded with smoke.
All this was in a second. As the smoke cleared, leaving an awful stillness, it passed out on the air, like the soul of the furious woman whose body lay lifeless on the ground.
In the first fright and horror of her situation, Miss Pross passed the body as far from it as she could, and ran down the stairs to call for fruitless help. Happily, she bethought herself of the consequences of what she did, in time to check herself and go back. It was dreadful to go in at the door again; but, she did go in, and even went near it, to get the bonnet and other things that she must wear. These she put on, out on the staircase, first shutting and locking the door and taking away the key. She then sat down on the stairs a few moments to breathe and to cry, and then got up and hurried away.
By good fortune she had a veil on her bonnet, or she could hardly have gone along the streets without being stopped. By good fortune, too, she was naturally so peculiar in appearance as not to show disfigurement like any other woman. She needed both advantages, for the marks of gripping fingers were deep in her face, and her hair was torn, and her dress (hastily composed with unsteady hands) was clutched and dragged a hundred ways.
In crossing the bridge, she dropped the door key in the river. Arriving at the cathedral some few minutes before her escort, and waiting there, she thought, what if the key were already taken in a net, what if it were identified, what if the door were opened and the remains discovered, what if she were stopped at the gate, sent to prison, and charged with murder! In the midst of these fluttering thoughts, the escort appeared, took her in, and took her away.
โIs there any noise in the streets?โ she asked him.
โThe usual noises,โ Mr. Cruncher replied; and looked surprised by the question and by her aspect.
โI donโt hear you,โ said Miss Pross. โWhat do you say?โ
It was in vain for Mr. Cruncher to repeat what he
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