“You are hard at work madam ," said the man near her.Yes," Answered Madam Defarge ; " I have a good deal to do."What do you make, Madam ?"Many things."For instance ---"For instance," returned Madam Defarge , composedly ,Shrouds."The man moved a little further away, as soon as he could, feeling it mightily close and oppressive .”

“It is a long time,' repeated his wife; 'and when is it not a long time? Vengeance and retribution require a long time; it is the rule.''It does not take a long time to strike a man with Lightning,' said Defarge.'How long,' demanded madame, composedly, 'does it take to make and store the lightning? Tell me?”

“Thus engaged, with her right elbow supported by her left hand, Madame Defarge said nothing when her lord came in, but coughed just one grain of cough. This, in combination with the lifting of her darkly defined eyebrows over her toothpick by the breadth of a line, suggested to her husband that he would do well to look round the shop among the customers, for any new customer who had dropped in while he stepped over the way.The wine-shop keeper accordingly rolled his eyes about, until they rested upon an elderly gentleman and a young lady, who were seated in a corner. Other company were there: two playing cards, two playing dominoes, three standing by the counter lengthening out a short supply of wine. As he passed behind the counter, he took notice that the elderly gentleman said in a look to the young lady, "This is our man.""What the devil do you do in that galley there?" said Monsieur Defarge to himself; "I don't know you."But, he feigned not to notice the two strangers, and fell into discourse with the triumvirate of customers who were drinking at the counter."How goes it, Jacques?" said one of these three to Monsieur Defarge. "Is all the spilt wine swallowed?""Every drop, Jacques," answered Monsieur Defarge.When this interchange of Christian name was effected, Madame Defarge, picking her teeth with her toothpick, coughed another grain of cough, and raised her eyebrows by the breadth of another line."It is not often," said the second of the three, addressing Monsieur Defarge, "that many of these miserable beasts know the taste of wine, or of anything but black bread and death. Is it not so, Jacques?""It is so, Jacques," Monsieur Defarge returned.At this second interchange of the Christian name, Madame Defarge, still using her toothpick with profound composure, coughed another grain of cough, and raised her eyebrows by the breadth of another line.The last of the three now said his say, as he put down his empty drinking vessel and smacked his lips."Ah! So much the worse! A bitter taste it is that such poor cattle always have in their mouths, and hard lives they live, Jacques. Am I right, Jacques?""You are right, Jacques," was the response of Monsieur Defarge.This third interchange of the Christian name was completed at the moment when Madame Defarge put her toothpick by, kept her eyebrows up, and slightly rustled in her seat."Hold then! True!" muttered her husband. "Gentlemen--my wife!"The three customers pulled off their hats to Madame Defarge, with three flourishes. She acknowledged their homage by bending her head, and giving them a quick look. Then she glanced in a casual manner round the wine-shop, took up her knitting with great apparent calmness and repose of spirit, and became absorbed in it."Gentlemen," said her husband, who had kept his bright eye observantly upon her, "good day. The chamber, furnished bachelor- fashion, that you wished to see, and were inquiring for when I stepped out, is on the fifth floor. The doorway of the staircase gives on the little courtyard close to the left here," pointing with his hand, "near to the window of my establishment. But, now that I remember, one of you has already been there, and can show the way. Gentlemen, adieu!"They paid for their wine, and left the place. The eyes of Monsieur Defarge were studying his wife at her knitting when the elderly gentleman advanced from his corner, and begged the favour of a word."Willingly, sir," said Monsieur Defarge, and quietly stepped with him to the door.Their conference was very short, but very decided. Almost at the first word, Monsieur Defarge started and became deeply attentive. It had not lasted a minute, when he nodded and went out. The gentleman then beckoned to the young lady, and they, too, went out. Madame Defarge knitted with nimble fingers and steady eyebrows, and saw nothing.”

“Madam, you flatter yourself. I do not want to marry you or anyone else. I am not a marrying man. - Rhett Butler”

“Miss Brinklow, however, was not yet to be sidetracked. "What do the lamas do?" she continued."They devote themselves, madam, to contemplation and to the pursuit of wisdom.""But that isn't doing anything.""Then, madam, they do nothing.”

“Wherever you go, madam, it will matter little what you carry. You will always carry your goodness.”