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“It could not be otherwise,” said the prisoner. “All things have
worked together as they have fallen out. It was the always-vain
endeavour to discharge my poor mother’s trust that first brought
my fatal presence near you. Good could never come of such evil, a
happier end was not in nature to so unhappy a beginning. Be
comforted, and forgive me. Heaven bless you!” As he was drawn
away, his wife released him, and stood looking after him with her
hands touching one another in the attitude of prayer, and with a
radiant look upon her face, in which there was even a comforting
smile. As he went out at the prisoners’ door, she turned, laid her
head lovingly on her father’s breast, tried to speak to him, and fell
at his feet.

Then, issuing from the obscure corner from which he had never
moved, Sydney Carton came and took her up. Only her father and
Mr. Lorry were with her.

His arm trembled as it raised her, and supported her head. Yet,
there was an air about him that was not all of pity-that had a flush
of pride in it.

“Shall I take her to a coach? I shall never feel her weight.” He
carried her lightly to the door, and laid her tenderly down in a
coach. Her father and their old friend got into it, and he took his
seat beside the driver.

When they arrived at the gateway where he had paused in the
dark not many hours before, to picture to himself on which of the
rough stones of the street her feet had trodden, he lifted her again,
and carried her up rhe staircase to their rooms. There, he laid her
down on a couch, where her child and Miss Pross wept over her.
“Don’t recall her to herself,” he said, softly, to the latter, “she is
better so.

Don’t revive her to consciousness, while she only faints.”
“Oh, Carton, Carton, Carton!” cried little Lucie, springing up and
throwing her arms passionately round him, in a burst of grief.
“Now that you have come, I think you will do something to help
mamma, something to save papa! O, look at her, dear Carton! Can
you, of all the people who love her, bear to see her so?” He bent
over the child, and laid her blooming cheek against his face. He put
her gently from him, and looked at her unconscious mother.
“Before I go,” he said, and paused-“I may kiss her?” It was
remembered afterwards that when he bent down and touched her
face with his lips, he murmured some words. The child, who was
nearest to him, told them afterwards, and told her grandchildren
when she was a handsome old lady, that she heard him say, “A life
you love.” When he had gone out into the next room, he turned
suddenly on Mr. Lorry and her father, who were following, and
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