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"Well, my sweet," said Miss Pross, nodding her head emphatically,

"the short and the long of it is, that I am a subject of His Most

Gracious Majesty King George the Third;" Miss Pross curtseyed at

the name; "and as such, my maxim is, Confound their politics,

Frustrate their knavish tricks, On him our hopes we fix, God save

the King!"

Mr. Cruncher, in an access of loyalty, growlingly repeated the

words after Miss Pross, like somebody at church.

"I am glad you have so much of the Englishman in you, though I

wish you had never taken that cold in your voice," said Miss

Pross, approvingly. "But the question, Doctor Manette. Is

there"--it was the good creature's way to affect to make light of

anything that was a great anxiety with them all, and to come at

it in this chance manner--"is there any prospect yet, of our

getting out of this place?"

"I fear not yet. It would be dangerous for Charles yet."