court-yard gate, rendered them occasional service; and Jerry
(almost wholly transferred to them by Mr. Lorry) had become
their daily retainer, and had his bed there every night.
It was an ordinance of the Republic One and Indivisible, of
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death, that on the door or doorpost
of every house, the name of every inmate must be legibly
inscribed in letters of a certain size, at a certain convenient height
from the ground. Mr. Jerry Cruncher’s name, therefore, duly
embellished the door-post down below; and, as the afternoon
shadows deepened, the owner of that name himself appeared,
from overlooking a painter whom Doctor Manette had employed
to add to the list the name of Charles Evremonde, called Darnay.
In the universal fear and distrust that darkened the time, all the
usual harmless ways of life were changed. In the Doctor’s little
household, as in very many others, the articles of daily
consumption that were wanted were purchased every evening, in
small quantities and at various small shops. To avoid attracting
notice, and to give as little occasion as possible for talk and envy,
was the general desire.
For some months past, Miss Pross and Mr. Cruncher had
discharged the office of purveyors; the former carrying the money;
the latter, the basket. Every afternoon at about the time when the
public lamps were lighted, they fared forth on this duty, and made
and brought home such purchases as were needful. Although Miss
Pross, through her long associations with a French family, might
have known as much of their language as of her own, if she had
had a mind, she ha