Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. Some excuse for this rapacity may perhaps be found in the fact, that five thousand pounds was paid for the purchase of the Press Yard by Mr. In the end he broke his own heart along with your mother's. The face of the man who lay there was clearly visible. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. She pulled him down by his lapels and arched her head readily towards his neck.
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