She took a shower after a particularly harsh volleyball debacle only to find that her locker had been picked and her outfit of the day, gray sweatpants and a shapeless pink sweater, were gone. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. Half an hour's labour, during which he was obliged more than once to pause to regain breath, sufficed to make a hole wide enough to allow a passage for his arm up to the elbow. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. Nine years ago, I worked in this very house—had a kind indulgent master, whom I robbed—twice robbed, at your instigation, villain; a mistress, whom you have murdered; a companion, whose friendship I have for ever forfeited; a mother, whose heart I have well-nigh broken. . ‘Major Gerald Alderley, mademoiselle, quite at your service.
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