"A Tale of Two Cities"
by Charles Dickens

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     "A moment more."

     "An hour, if you please."

     "Sir," said the nephew, "we have done wrong, and are reaping the fruits of wrong."

     "We have done wrong?" repeated the Marquis, with an inquiring smile, and delicately pointing, first to his nephew, then to himself.

 

     "Our family; our honourable family, whose honour is of so much account to both of us, in such different ways. Even in my father's time, we did a world of wrong, injuring every human creature who came between us and our pleasure, whatever it was. Why need I speak of my father's time, when it is equally yours? Can I separate my father's twin-brother, joint inheritor, and next successor, from himself?"

     "Death has done that!" said the Marquis.

 
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