In that same juncture of time when the Fifty-Two awaited their fate Madame Defarge held darkly ominous council with The Vengeance and Jacques Three of the Revolutionary Jury.
Not in the wine-shop did Madame Defarge confer with these ministers, but in the shed of the wood-sawyer, erst a mender of roads.
The sawyer himself did not participate in the conference, but abided at a little distance, like an outer satellite who was not to speak until required, or to offer an opinion until invited. 'But our Defarge,' said Jacques Three, 'is undoubtedly a good Republican? Eh?
' 'There is no better,' the voluble Vengeance protested in her shrill notes, 'in France. ' 'Peace, little Vengeance,' said Madame Defarge, laying her hand with a slight frown on her lieutenant’s lips, 'hear me speak.
My husband, fellow-citizen, is a good Republican and a bold man; he has deserved well of the Republic, and possesses its confidence. But my husband has his weaknesses, and he is so weak as to relent towards this Doctor.
' 'It is a great pity,' croaked Jacques Three, dubiously shaking his head, with his cruel fingers at his hungry mouth; 'it is not quite like a good citizen; it is a thing to regret. ' 'See you,' said madame, 'I care nothing for this Doctor, I.
He may wear his head or lose it, for any interest I have in him; it is all one to me. But, the Evrémonde people are to be exterminated, and the wife and child must follow the husband and father.
' 'She has a fine head for it,' croaked Jacques Three. 'I have seen blue eyes and golden hair there, and they looked charming when Samson held them up. ' Ogre that he was, he spoke like an epicure. Madame Defarge cast down her eyes, and reflected a