"Collect our men; and when you're ready get a coach at the door." "We were just going to supper," grumbled Magloire to himself, as he went out.

"The devil seize the Aristocrats! They're all in such a hurry to get to the guillotine that they won't even give a man time to eat his victuals in peace!" "There's no choice now," muttered Lomaque, angrily thrusting the arrest-order and the three-cornered note into his pocket.

"His father was the saving of me; he himself welcomed me like an equal; his sister treated me like a gentleman, as the phrase went in those days; and now--" He stopped and wiped his forehead--then unlocked his desk, produced a bottle of brandy, and poured himself out a glass of the liquor, which he drank by sips, slowly.
"I wonder whether other men get softer-hearted as they grow older!" he said.

"I seem to do so, at any rate.

Courage! courage! what must be, must.