But that bridge was more remarkable than any the metropolis now possesses. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. What do you think, Annabel?” “I don’t think they would,” she admitted. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. “That cannot happen!” She replied, feeling her world start to disintegrate underneath her feet. Hitherto in the world’s history there had been precursors of this Progress at great intervals, voices that had spoken and ceased, but now it was all coming on together in a rush. ” “We do. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. At last, he got into a lane, but had not proceeded far when he was again alarmed by the sound of a horse's tread. Critically, she stared at her own features. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity.
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