Sahil Gupta

Chapter 3 Mr. Attorney-General had to inform the jury, that the prisoner before them, though young in years, was old in the treasonable practices which claimed the forfeit of his life. That this correspondence with the public enemy was not a correspondence of today, or of yesterday, or even of last year, or of the […]

Chapter 2 “You know the Old Bailey, well, no doubt?” said one of the oldest of clerks to Jerry the messenger.“Ye-es, sir,” returned Jerry, in something of a dogged manner. “I do know the Bailey.”“Just so. And you know Mr. Lorry.”“I know Mr. Lorry, sir, much better than I know the Bailey. Much better,” said

Chapter 1 Tellson’s Bank by Temple Bar was an old-fashioned place, even in the year one thousand seven hundred and eighty. It was very small, very dark, very ugly, very incommodious. It was an old-fashioned place, moreover, in the moral attribute that the partners in the House were proud of its smallness, proud of its

Chapter 6 “Good-day!” said Monsieur Defarge, looking down at the white head that bent low over the shoemaking.It was raised for a moment, and a very faint voice responded to the salutation, as if it were at a distance:“Good-day!”“You are still hard at work, I see?”After a long silence, the head was lifted for another

Chapter 5 A large cask of wine had been dropped and broken, in the street. The accident had happened in getting it out of a cart; the cask had tumbled out with a run, the hoops had burst, and it lay on the stones just outside the door of the wine shop, shattered like a

Chapter 4 When the mail got successfully to Dover, in the course of the forenoon, the head drawer at the Royal George Hotel opened the coach-door as his custom was. He did it with some flourish of ceremony, for a mail journey from London in winter was an achievement to congratulate an adventurous traveller upon.By

Chapter 3 A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them

Chapter 2 It was the Dover road that lay, on a Friday night late in November, before the first of the persons with whom this history has business. The Dover road lay, as to him, beyond the Dover mail, as it lumbered up Shooter’s Hill. He walked uphill in the mire by the side of

Chapter 1 It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of