A chill ran through his frame, and, grasping the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him, prepared to strike down the first person who should enter the cell. ” “I don’t know who you are,” Ennison said quietly, “but you are a thundering liar. ” She hesitated. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming. Send for Mr. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton.
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