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"Well, because the French Revolution always appeals to me, and secondly because I think the best bit of writing in all his books is the description of Sydney Carton's ride on the tumbrel to the guillotine." "Have you ever read Carlyle's FRENCH REVOLUTION?" "No" "I will lend it to you." "If you do, I will read it." "How about poetry, what poets do you like?"
"If you remember," said Carton, dictating, "the words that passed between us long ago, you will comprehend this when you see it. I am thankful that the time has come when I can prove them." Carton's hand was withdrawn from his breast, and slowly and softly moved down the writer's face.
I can't find anything missing except a bundle of old and valueless photographs. Carton." "And the taking of the photographs was merely a blind, after not finding it?" Kennedy queried, I cannot say much impressed by my theory. "Perhaps," I acquiesced weakly, as we went out. Instead of turning in the direction of Carton's immediately, Kennedy walked across the campus toward the Chemistry Building.
It was too soon, that night, of course, to expect to learn anything, anyhow. It was quite late, but it had been a confining day for Kennedy who had spent the hours while not working on Carton's case in some of the ceaseless and recondite investigations of his own to which he was always turning his restless mind. "Suppose we walk a little way downtown with Carton?" he suggested.
In the "Tale of Two Cities," Sydney Carton's voluntary death upon the scaffold stands at the apex of several series of events. And a plot may be still further complicated by tying the strands together at other points beside the culmination.
In the day-time, I had the like post in Captain Carton's boat. I had a special station of my own, behind Miss Maryon, and no hands but hers ever touched my wound. Pordage was kept tolerably quiet now, with pen and ink, and began to pick up his senses a little. Seated in the second boat, he made documents with Mr.
"No, Kahn," he said in a low tone, but firmly, "no compromise." Kahn bent his ferret eyes on Carton's face as if to bore through into his very mind. "No," added the District Attorney, "Murtha was just here, and I may as well repeat what I said to him although I might fairly assume that he went from this room directly across the street to your office and that you know it already.
"That's it," agreed Carton. "He has never got it out of his head that Kahn swung the case against him and I've been careful not to dwell on the truth of that Kahn episode." Carton led us into his main office, where Rubano was seated with two of Carton's assistants who were quizzing him industriously and obtaining an amazing amount of information about gang life and political corruption.
"Then you think you can trace down the forger of those pictures before it is too late?" urged Carton, leaning forward almost like a prisoner in the dock to catch the words of the foreman of the jury. "I haven't said I can do that yet," measured Craig with provoking slowness. "Say, Kennedy, you're not going to desert me?" reproached Carton. Kennedy laughed as he put his hand on Carton's shoulder.
The look on Carton's face was a study. I saw directly what was the trouble far more important to him than a mere election. "Tell her I'm out will be back soon," he muttered, for the first time hesitating to speak to her.
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