His first impression was confirmed.
"It is best," he said, finally resolved, "that these people should know there is such a man as I here." And he turned his face towards Saint Antoine.
Defarge had described himself, that day, as the keeper of a wine-shop in the Saint Antoine suburb.
It was not difficult for one who knew the city well, to find his house without asking any question.
Having ascertained its situation, Carton came out of those closer streets again, and dined at a place of refreshment and fell sound asleep after dinner.
For the first time in many years, he had no strong drink.
Since last night he had taken nothing but a little light thin wine, and last night he had dropped the brandy slowly down on Mr. Lorry's hearth like a man who had done with it.
It was as late as seven o'clock when he awoke refreshed, and went out into the streets again.
As he passed along towards Saint Antoine, he stopped at a shop-window where there was a mirror, and slightly altered the disordered arrangement of his loose cravat, and his coat-collar, and his wild hair.
This done, he went on direct to Defarge's, and went in.