With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical. “You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him. The jealous burn at his eyes subsided and his finger came up. Wood. “I’ve brought you up some dinner, Vee,” she said. Some few of the individuals seated at the other tables seemed to take an interest in the proceedings of Blueskin and his party, just as a bystander watches any other game; but, generally speaking, the company were too much occupied with their own concerns to pay attention to anything else. Still, she knew instinctively that all of Sidney Carton's life had not been put upon the printed page.
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