`Now, Mr. Cruncher,' said Miss Pross, whose eyes were red with felicity; `if you are ready, I am.'

Jerry hoarsely professed himself at Miss Pross's service. He had worn all his rust off long ago, but nothing would file his spiky head down.

`There's all manner of things wanted,' said Miss Pross, `and we shall have a precious time of it. We want wine, among the rest. Nice toasts these Redheads will be drinking, wherever we buy it.'

`It will be much the same to your knowledge, miss, I should think,' retorted Jerry, `whether they drink your health or the Old Un's.

Mr. Cruncher, with some diffidence, explained himself as meaning `Old Nick's.'

`Ha!' said Miss Pross, `it doesn't need an interpreter to explain the meaning of these creatures. They have but one, and it's Midnight Murder, and Mischief'

`Hush, dear! Pray, pray, be cautious!' cried Lucie.

`Yes, yes, yes, I'll be cautious,' said Miss Pross; `but I may say among ourselves, that I do hope there will be no oniony and tobaccoey smotherings in the form of embracings all round, going on in the streets. Now, Ladybird, never you stir from that fire till I come back! Take care of the dear husband you have recovered, and don't move your pretty head from his shoulder as you have it now, till you see me again! May I ask a question, Doctor Manette, before I go?'