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Автор: Charles Dickens

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"Forbid it," proceeded Mr. Cruncher, with additional solemnity,
additional slowness, and additional tendency to hold forth and
hold out, "as anything wot I have ever said or done should be
wisited on my earnest wishes for them poor creeturs now! Forbid
it as we shouldn't all flop (if it was anyways conwenient) to get
'em out o' this here dismal risk! Forbid it, miss! Wot I say,
for-bid it!" This was Mr. Cruncher's conclusion after a
protracted but vain endeavour to find a better one.
And still Madame Defarge, pursuing her way along the streets,
came nearer and nearer.
"If we ever get back to our native land," said Miss Pross, "you
may rely upon my telling Mrs. Cruncher as much as I may be able
to remember and understand of what you have so impressively said;
and at all events you may be sure that I shall bear witness to
your being thoroughly in earnest at this dreadful time. Now, pray
let us think! My esteemed Mr. Cruncher, let us think!"

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