Her hair once more was arranged with its old simplicity. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. 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. He seemed so clean anyway, his fair 215 skin, his light brown hair, there almost seemed to be no point.
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