To appeal to her, was made
hopeless by her having no sense of pity, even for herself. If she had been
laid low in the streets, in any of the many encounters in which she had
been engaged, she would not have pitied herself; nor, if she had been
ordered to the axe to-morrow, would she have gone to it with any softer
feeling than a fierce desire to change places with the man who sent her
there.
Such a heart Madame Defarge carried under her rough robe. Carelessly worn,
it was a becoming robe enough, in a certain weird way, and her dark hair
looked rich under her coarse red cap. Lying hidden in her bosom, was a
loaded pistol. Lying hidden at her waist, was a sharpened dagger. Thus
accoutred, and walking with the confident tread of such a character, and
with the supple freedom of a woman who had habitually walked in her
girlhood, bare-foot and bare-legged, on the brown sea-sand, Madame Defarge
took her way along the streets.
- A Tale of Two Cities
descensus Averno facilis est