CHAPTER VI Sidney Carton, thought Ruth, in pursuit of a sing-song girl! The idea was so incongruous that a cold little smile parted her lips. "Lost no time on the road—eh!—I didn't expect you till to-morrow at the earliest. He drew an awed breath. "That was the lad's name," returned the stranger. His eyes were fixed upon her face, but he opened his lips twice before he spoke. “We will take it then,” he said, “that you have refused or ignored one request I have made you this morning. “You were never born,” he declared, “to follow the well worn roads. "Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is. “These are the playgrounds of life. ” The corners of her mouth rose in a weak smile and she gave him a wink. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. “Well, hello there. He returned the locket without comment. ” “It is an accident,” he answered.
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