They're both fine heads for the Guillotine

They're both fine heads for the Guillotine At that same hour in the early afternoon a coach going out of Paris drives up to the gates of the city.

'Who goes there? Show us your papers！'The guard looks at the papers. 'Alexandre Manette, Doctor. Which is he? '

This is Dr Manette；this helpless old man, whispering crazily to himself. 'The last few days of the Revolution have been too much for him, 'said the guard with a cruel laugh. 'Lucie his daughter. The wife of Evrémonde. Which is she? '

This is she. With her child, little Lucie, beside her. 'Hah, your husband has another meeting today.State Flags Sydney Carton. Lawyer, English. Which is he? '

He is here, in the corner. He is not well. 'And Jarvis Lorry. Banker, English. Which is he? '

'I am he, and the last, 'says Jarvis Lorry. 'Here are your papers, Jarvis Lorry. You may go. '

There are wildly beating hearts in the coach, and trembling hands；there is the heavy breathing of the unconscious traveller. But onwards the coach goes；the horses are fast, and there are no shouts behind them on the road. Also that afternoon Madame Defarge was talking with her friends.

'My husband is a good citizen, but he is not strong enough. He feels sorry for the Doctor. I say that all the Evrémonde people must go to the Guillotine. The wife and the child must follow the husband. '

'They're both fine heads for the Guillotine, 'said Jacques Three. 'Their heads will be a pretty sight when they are shown to the people. Yes, they too, must die. '

'But I'm afraid that my husband may warn them and let them escape, 'Madame Defarge went on, 'and I must do something myself. After the death of Evrémonde at three this afternoon we'll go to the Tribunal and accuse them. '

The others agreed willingly. 'No one must escape. More heads must fall. '

'Lucie Manette will be at home now, waiting for the moment of her husband's death, 'said Madame Defarge. ' I will go to her. She will say things against the Revolution, and condemn herself. Here, take my knitting and keep my usual seat near the Guillotine. '

'Don't be late, 'said her friend.

'To see the death of Evrémonde, I shall not be late, 'replid the cruel voice of Madame Defarge.