`One Hundred and Five, North Tower.'
With a weary sound that was not a sigh, nor a groan, he bent to work again, until the silence was again broken.
`You are not a shoemaker by trade?' said Mr. Lorry, looking steadfastly at him.
His haggard eyes turned to Defarge as if he would have transferred the question to him: but as no help came from that quarter, they turned back on the questioner when they had sought the ground.
`I am not a shoemaker by trade? No, I was not a shoe-maker by trade. I--I learn't it here. I taught myself. I asked leave to---'
He lapsed away, even for minutes, ringing those measured changes on his hands the whole time. His eyes came slowly back, at last, to the face from which they had wandered; when they rested on it, he started, and resumed, in the manner of a sleeper that moment awake, reverting to a subject of last night.
`I asked leave to teach myself, and I got it with much difficulty after a long while, and I have made shoes ever since.'
As he held out his hand for the shoe that had been taken from him, Mr. Lorry said, still looking steadfastly in his face: