安防监控摄像头报价 家用安防监控摄像机 有监控摄像头 周

材质	塑料、铝
产地	深圳
产品类别	usb摄像头
传感器类型	3CCD
传感器像素	100、130、200（dpi）
附加功能	夜视功能
接口	USB3.0
接口类型	USB
上市时间	2018
使用范围	液晶显示器
售后服务	一年保修
颜色	白色
重量	3kg
最高分辨率	720P、1080P
送礼用途	个人礼品
适用送礼场合	**典,展销会,员工福利,生日,商务馈赠,婚庆,会议庆典
货源类别	订货
品牌	galileostar
型号	GS
加工定制	否
商品类型	全新
最快出货时间	1-3天
是否需要驱动	免驱动

 FragmentWelcome to consult... shapes to the mare as arose out of her
private topics of uneasiness. They seemed to be numerous, for she
shied at every shadow on the road.

What time, the mail-coach lumbered, jolted, rattled, and
bumped upon its tedious way, with its three fellow-inscrutables
inside. To whom, likewise, the shadows of the night revealed
themselves, in the forms their dozing eyes and wandering
thoughts suggested.

Tellson’s Bank had a run upon it in the mail. As the bank
passenger—with an arm drawn through the leathern strap, which
did what lay in it to keep him from pounding against the next
passenger, and driving him into his corner, whenever the coach
got a special jolt—nodded in his place, with half-shut eyes, the
little coach-windows, and the coach-lamp dimly gleaming through
them, and the bulky bundle of opposite passenger, became the
bank, and did a great stroke of business. The rattle of the harness
was the chink of money, and more drafts were honoured in five
minutes than even Tellson’s, with all its foreign and home
connexion, ever paid in thrice the time. Then the strong-rooms
underground, at Tellson’s, with such of their valuable stores and
secrets as were known to the passenger (and it was not a little that
he knew about them), opened before him, and he went in among

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

f
A Tale of Two Cities

them with the great keys and the feebly-burning candle, and found
them safe, and strong, and sound, and still, just as he had last seen
them.

But, though the bank was almost always with him, and though
the coach (in a confused way, like the presence of pain under an
opiate) was always with him, there was another current of
impression that never ceased to run, all through the night. He was
on his way to dig some one out of a grave.

Now, which of the multitude of faces that showed themselves
before him was the true face of the buried person, the shadows of
the night did not indicate; but they were all the faces of a man of
five-and-forty by years, and they differed principally in the
passions they expressed, and in the ghastliness of their worn and
wasted state. Pride, contempt, defiance, stubbornness,
submission, lamentation, succeeded one another; so did varieties
of sunken cheek, cadaverous colour, emaciated hands and figures.
But the face was in the main one face, and every head was
prematurely white. A hundred times the dozing passenger
inquired of this spectre:

“Buried how long?”

The answer was always the same: “Almost eighteen years.”

“You had abandoned all hope of being dug out?”

“Long ago.”

“You know that you are recalled to life?”

“They tell me so.”

“I hope you care to live?”

“I can’t say.”

“Shall I show her to you? Will you come and see her?”

The answers to this question were various and contradictory.

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

f
A Tale of Two Cities

Sometimes the broken reply was. “Wait! It would kill me if I saw
her too soon.” Sometimes, it was given in a tender rain of tears,
and then it was, “Take me to her.” Sometimes it was staring and
bewildered, and then it was, “I don’t know her. I don’t
understand.”

After such imaginary discourse, the passenger in his fancy
would dig, and dig, dig—now, with a spade, now with a great key,
now with his hands—to dig this wretched creature out. Got out at
last, with earth hanging about his face and hair, he would
suddenly fall away to dust. The passenger would then start to
himself, and lower the window, to get the reality of mist and ra