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" "And perish upon the gibbet," rejoined Jonathan contemptuously. She nodded. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. Seems you were right about Valade. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. He pulled down a chair to her left. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat.
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