canvas painting

Madame Defarge cast down her eyes, and reflected a little. `The child also,' observed Jacques Three, with a meditative enjoyment of his words, `has golden hair and blue eyes. And we seldom have a child there. It is a pretty sight!'
`In a word,' said Madame Defarge, coming out of her short abstraction, `I cannot trust my husband in this matter.
Not only do I feel, since last night, that I dare not confide to him the details of my projects; but also I feel that if I delay, there is danger of his giving warning, and then they might escape.
`That must never be,' croaked Jacques Three; `no one must escape. We have not half enough as it is. We ought to have six score a day.'
`In a word,' Madame Defarge went on, `my husband has not my reason for pursuing this family to annihilation, and I have not his reason for regarding this Doctor with any sensibility. I must act for myself, therefore. Come hither, little citizen.
The wood-sawyer, who held her in the respect, and himself in the submission, of mortal fear, advanced with his hand to his red