Two Cities

Chapter 63 The End of Weaving (2)
At this moment Madame Defarge was approaching along the avenue. "You speak very well," said Miss Pross. "If we ever get back to our own country, believe me, I shall never fail to convey to Mrs. Cruncher what I remember and understand. And, at any rate, You can trust me to testify to your seriousness in this hour of horror. Now, please, let us think, my esteemed Mr. Cruncher, let us think!" At this moment, Mrs. Defarge Walking down the street, getting closer. "If you can take a step first," Miss Pross said, "it would be better to ask the carriage not to come here, but to find another place to wait for me?" Cruncher thought so. "Then where are you waiting for me?" asked Miss Pross.Cruncher was in such a mess that he couldn't think of any other venue than the London Law Society.But the fact is that the Law Society of London is thousands of miles away, and Mrs. Defarge is only a few feet away.

"At the cathedral door," said Miss Pross. "It's not a detour when I get on there, is it? How about the gate between the two bell towers of the cathedral?"

"Yes, ma'am," answered Cruncher. "Then, like the best man, go to the station at once, and change the line," said Miss Pross. "I'm a little worried about leaving you," said Mr. Cruncher, shaking his head uncertainly. "You see, I don't know what can happen." "Ghost knows," replied Miss Pross. "Don't worry about me. Pick me up at the cathedral at three o'clock or a little earlier, I think that's much better than starting here, sure. That's it! God bless you, Mr. Cruncher! Don't worry about me, look Take those lives, it depends on us!"

These words, and Miss Pross's painful entreaty, clasping both of his, made Mr. Cruncher determined.He nodded encouragingly, and then went to change the driving route, leaving her alone to meet him according to her own plan.

Miss Pross breathed a sigh of relief that such precautions had been devised, and had been carried out.Her appearance is definitely calm and normal, so as not to attract unwanted attention, which also calms her down.She looked at her watch, it was twenty past two.She had no time to waste, she had to get ready right away.

She was in a mess.The deserted house was very deserted, and she was afraid.There seemed to be something peeping behind every open door, and she was also afraid.Miss Pross fetched a basin of water to wash her red, swollen eyes.She was full of unspeakable fear, afraid that the water on her eyes would suddenly block her vision, so she stopped and looked around again and again, afraid that someone was looking at her.Once she stopped, she cried out involuntarily, and stepped back because she saw a figure appear in the room.

The washbasin fell and shattered, and the water flowed to Madame Defarge's feet—feet that had been exercising in a pool of blood, with a majestic and unique gait.

Madame Defarge looked at her impassively and said, "Where is Mrs. Evermond?"

Miss Pross suddenly remembered that all the doors were open, and it made one think of running away.Her first move was to close the doors one by one.There were four doors in the house, and after closing all of them she stood in front of Lucy's room.

Madame Defarge's eyes followed her swift movement, and then fell on her.Years had not subdued Miss Pross' wildness, nor softened her rough form.She's a tough woman, too, even in different ways.She also followed Madame Defarge up and down with her eyes. "Don't look at you like the devil's wife," whispered Miss Pross, "you can't take advantage of me, I'm an Englishwoman." Madame Defarge looked at her disdainfully, and she felt differently from Miss Pross Not much.The two of them can be said to have met on a narrow road.Opposite Madame Defarge was a strong, strong, agile woman, not unlike the strong-armed woman Mr. Lorry had seen so long before.Madame Defarge knew very well that Miss Pross was a true friend of the family.Miss Pross was well aware that Madame Defarge was the fierce enemy of the family.

"I'm going there," said Madame Defarge, waving a hand in the murderous direction; "they've reserved my seat and my knitting there for me. I'm dropping by to pay her respects." Yes. I want to see her."

"I know you have something on your mind," said Miss Pross. "But you don't have to worry, your evil intentions will never succeed in front of me."

One of the two spoke French and the other spoke English, neither of them understood the other's words, but they were extremely vigilant against each other, trying to tell from the other's expression and attitude that they didn't understand.

"It will do her no good to hide her from me at this moment," said Madame Defarge. "Good patriots know what it is. Let me see her. Tell her I want to see her. Got it?"

"Even if your eyes roll like a potter's wheel," replied Miss Pross, "I am an English four-poster bed, and however your eyes roll, you won't touch me. No, you mortal wreck." Female foreigner, I am dating you today." It seems that Mrs. Defarge did not understand these common sayings, but she understood that the other party did not take herself seriously. "Stupid, stupid pig!" Madame Defarge frowned. "I don't want you to answer, I want to meet her. You go and tell her, I want to know, otherwise don't stand at the door and let me go in by myself!" She gestured viciously when she said it.

"I don't care to listen to your nonsense," said Miss Pross, "but to find out if you've guessed the truth (perhaps only a little), I'd like to give away everything I have—except This outfit."

The two stared at each other intently.Madame Defarge had not moved since Miss Pross noticed her presence, but now she took a step forward.

"I'm a Briton anyway," said Miss Pross. "Today I paid my dues, and I am willing to give up this worthless life. I know that if I keep you here longer, my little bird hopes for more. If you dare to touch me One finger, I will definitely pull out your black hair!"

Thus Miss Pross would shake her head and stare at the end of each hurried sentence, and she was panting every word.She went into battle like this—she had never fought a man before.

But her courage was tinged with emotion, and her eyes were filled with tears.Madame Defarge misunderstood her display of courage, thinking it was weakness. "Ha! Ha!" she laughed, "you poor fellow! What a fellow! I'm going to speak to the Doctor." And as she spoke, she cried out at the top of her voice, "Citizen Doctor! Mrs. Evermond! Daughter-in-law of the Evremonde family! Which of you but this poor wretch will answer to the lady citizen Defarge?"

Perhaps it was natural reticence, perhaps Miss Pross's expression inadvertently gave away the secret, perhaps some inexplicable and irrelevant sudden inspiration, in any case Madame Defarge saw that they were gone long ago.She immediately opened the three doors and looked inside.

"The three rooms are all in a mess. Someone hastily packed luggage, and things are all over the floor. I'm afraid there is no one in the room behind you! Let me see!"

"Don't think so!" Miss Pross knew her request as well as Madame Defarge understood her answer.

"If they are not in the house, they must have escaped. They can be chased and brought back," Madame Defarge said to herself.

"You don't know what to do as long as you don't know if they're in the room at all," grumbled Miss Pross. "As long as I don't let you know, you don't want to know. Whether you know it or not, if I want to entangle you, you will never want to leave here."

"I've been running the streets since I was a kid, and nothing can stop me. I could tear you to pieces, and now I'm going to knock you out the door," Madame Defarge said.

"We're all alone in this yard, just the two of us on top of a tall building, so no one will hear you. I pray to God to give me the strength to hang on to you. Any minute you're here is a match for my darling. A hundred thousand gold pieces!" said Miss Pross.

Madame Defarge burst into the room, and Miss Pross, in a moment of excitement, threw her arms round her and threw her round her waist.Madame Defarge struggled, then beat, but to no avail.Miss Pross was so loving and resilient, holding her so tight—love was always stronger than hate—that she nearly lifted her off the ground in the struggle.Madame Defarge struck her with her hands and scratched her face, while Miss Pross bent her head and put her arms around her waist, tighter than a drowning woman.

Madame Defarge immediately stopped the beating, and reached out her hand to feel the tightly held waist.Your thing's under my arm," said Miss Pross breathlessly, "and you can't get it out.Haha, my strength is definitely greater than yours.I'm going to hold you until one of us passes out or dies!

Madame Defarge's hands were on her breast.Miss Pross looked up, knew what it was, and punched it, and there was a flash, a bang, and she stood there alone, out of sight.

All happen in an instant.The smoke dissipated, leaving only a terrifying calm.The smoke died in the air like the soul of a furious woman who lay dead on the ground.

Miss Pross was startled by this, and frightened to death.She first ran downstairs, trying to stay away from the corpse and seek help from someone she couldn't find.

Fortunately, she remembered the consequences of her troubles, so she stopped immediately and ran back.She was terribly afraid to enter the house again, but she went in anyway, and walked past the body, taking out the hat and clothes she needed to wear.She went downstairs next, shut the door, locked it, took the key, and sat down on the steps for a moment to catch her breath and cry, before she got up and hurried away.Thanks to the veil hanging from her hat, otherwise she would definitely be questioned on the road.Thanks to her natural appearance, she doesn't look disheveled like other women.She needed both advantages, for her hair was disheveled, her face was marked with fingernails, and her clothes were in such a mess that she had to straighten them with trembling hands.

She threw the key into the river while crossing the bridge.She had arrived at the cathedral a little earlier than her bodyguard, and while waiting for him she thought about the ins and outs.What if the key is caught in a fishing net?What if the key is identified?What if the door was opened and the body was found?What if she was detained at the city gate, sent to prison, and convicted of murder?She was racing with her mind full when her bodyguard came and let her get in the car and go away.

"Is there any noise in the street?" she asked him. "There was the usual noise," replied Mr. Cruncher, surprised at the question and at her grotesque appearance. "I didn't hear you," said Miss Pross. "What do you mean?" Mr. Cruncher repeated his answer, but it had no effect, and Miss Pross was still out of hearing. "I'll nod, then," thought Mr. Cruncher, greatly surprised. "She'll figure it out." She did. "Is there any noise in the street now?" Miss Pross asked again after a moment.

Mr. Cruncher nodded again. "But I can't hear you."

"Why are you deaf in only an hour?" Mr. Cruncher thought anxiously. "What happened to her?"

"I think," said Miss Pross, "that there was a flash of fire, and a bang, and that was the last sound I've ever heard in my life." Nervously, "Has she emboldened herself with anything? Listen! That terrible prison cart is rumbling! Do you hear it, miss?" "Not at all," Miss Pross answered quickly.Ah, my good man, there was a bang, quite loud, and then no sound, no more, never more, and I fear I shall never hear a sound again in my life.

Since she can't even hear the dreadful rumbling of the prison carts,—the prison carts, she'll be at her destination in a minute," said Mr. Cruncher, with a look round, and I reckon she'll never hear the sounds of the world again. "

She literally couldn't hear anymore.

(End of this chapter)