and his eyes on the ceiling as they had been all day.

Something especially reckless in his demeanour, not only gave

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him a disreputable look, but so diminished the strong resemblance

he undoubtedly bore to the prisoner (which his momentary

earnestness, when they were compared together, had

strengthened), that many of the lookers-on, taking note of him

now, said to one another they would hardly have thought the two

were so alike. Mr. Cruncher made the observation to his next

neighbour, and added, “I’d hold a half a guinea that he don’t get no

law-work to do. Don’t look like the sort of one to get any, do he?”

Yet, this Mr. Carton took in more of the details of the scene

than he appeared to take in; for now, when Miss Manette’s head

dropped upon her father’s breast, he was the first to see it, and to

say audibly: “Officer! look to that young lady. Help the gentleman

to take her out. Don’t you see she will fall!”

There was much commiseration for her as she was removed,

and much sympathy with her father. It had evidently been a great

distress to him, to have the days of his imprisonment recalled. He

had shown strong internal agitation when he was questioned, and

that pondering or brooding look which made him old, had been

upon him, like a heavy cloud, ever since. As he passed out, the

jury, who had turned back and paused a moment, spoke, through

their foreman.

They were not agreed