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Both her hearers derived a horrible enjoyment from the deadly

nature of her wrath--the listener could feel how white she was,

without seeing her--and both highly commended it. Defarge, a weak

minority, interposed a few words for the memory of the

compassionate wife of the Marquis; but only elicited from his own

wife a repetition of her last reply. "Tell the Wind and the Fire

where to stop; not me!"

Customers entered, and the group was broken up. The English

customer paid for what he had had, perplexedly counted his

change, and asked, as a stranger, to be directed towards the

National Palace. Madame Defarge took him to the door, and put her

arm on his, in pointing out the road. The English customer was

not without his reflections then, that it might be a good deed to

seize that arm, lift it, and strike under it sharp and deep.