The Sacrifice of Abraham painting

The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
¡¡¡¡"To return to to poor Darnay," said Carton. "Don't tell Her of this interview, or this arrangement. It would not enable Her to go to see him. She might think it was contrived, in case of the worse, to convey to him the means of anticipating the sentence." ¡¡¡¡Mr. Lorry had not thought of that, and he looked quickly at Carton to see if it were in his mind. It seemed to be; he returned the look, and evidently understood it. ¡¡¡¡"She might think a thousand things," Carton said, "and any of them would only add to her trouble. Don't speak of me to her. As I said to you when I first came, I had better not see her. I can put my hand out, to do any little helpful work for her that my hand can find to do, without that. You are going to her, I hope? She must be very desolate to-night." ¡¡¡¡"I am going now, directly." ¡¡¡¡"I am glad of that. She has such a strong attachment to you and reliance on you. How does she look?" ¡¡¡¡"Anxious and unhappy, but very beautiful." ¡¡¡¡"Ah!" ¡¡¡¡It was a long, grieving sound, like a sigh- almost like a sob. It attracted Mr. Lorry's eyes to Carton's face, which was turned to the fire. A light, or a shade (the old gentleman could not have said which), passed from it as swiftly as a change will sweep over a hill-side on a wild bright day, and he lifted his foot to put back one of the little flaming logs, which was tumbling forward. He wore the white riding-coat and top-boots, then in vogue, and the light of the fire touching their light surfaces made him look very pale, with his long brown hair, all untrimmed, hanging loose about him. His indifference to fire was sufficiently remarkable to elicit a word of remonstrance from Mr. Lorry; his boot was still upon the hot embers of the flaming log, when it had broken under the weight of his foot. ¡¡¡¡"I forgot it," he said.