Libro · A Tale of Two Cities
Pagina 421 de 896
Autor: Charles Dickens
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"As you say," madame retorted, correcting him, and deftly
knitting an extra something into his name that boded him no good.
"Pardon me; certainly it was I who said so, but you naturally
think so. Of course."
"I think?" returned madame, in a high voice. "I and my husband
have enough to do to keep this wine-shop open, without thinking.
All we think, here, is how to live. That is the subject we think
of, and it gives us, from morning to night, enough to think
about, without embarrassing our heads concerning others. I think
for others? No, no."
The spy, who was there to pick up any crumbs he could find or
make, did not allow his baffled state to express itself in his
sinister face; but, stood with an air of gossiping gallantry,
leaning his elbow on Madame Defarge's little counter, and
occasionally sipping his cognac.
"A bad business this, madame, of Gaspard's execution. Ah! the
poor Gaspard!" With a sigh of great compassion.
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