Книга · A Tale of Two Cities
Страница 834 из 896
Автор: Charles Dickens
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There was something so bright and remarkable in his look, that,
for the first moment, the prisoner misdoubted him to be an
apparition of his own imagining. But, he spoke, and it was his
voice; he took the prisoner's hand, and it was his real grasp.
"Of all the people upon earth, you least expected to see me?" he
said.
"I could not believe it to be you. I can scarcely believe it now.
You are not"--the apprehension came suddenly into his mind--"a
prisoner?"
"No. I am accidentally possessed of a power over one of the
keepers here, and in virtue of it I stand before you. I come from
her--your wife, dear Darnay."
The prisoner wrung his hand.
"I bring you a request from her."
"What is it?"
"A most earnest, pressing, and emphatic entreaty, addressed to
you in the most pathetic tones of the voice so dear to you, that
you well remember."
The prisoner turned his face partly aside.
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