A visit to a forensic laboratory in Moscow confirmed my suspicion that being a close relative of the crown of creation won’t get you any respect. The lab specialized in forensic sculpting, such as facial reconstructions from the skulls of unidentified murder victims. In a corner of the basement, my hosts revealed a rough-hewn face that they were trying to keep under wraps. I wasn’t even allowed to take a picture. They had tried their hand at a Neanderthal skull, and the resulting bust so eerily resembled one of the most powerful Duma (parliament) members that they feared he would close down their institute if a picture ever saw the light of day.
— Frans de Waal
Диккенс. A Tale of Two Cities. Начало.
It was the year of Our Lord one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five. Spiritual revelations were conceded to England at that favoured period, as at this. Mrs. Southcott had recently attained her five-and-twentieth blessed birthday, of whom a prophetic private in the Life Guards had heralded the sublime appearance by announcing that arrangements were made for the swallowing up of London and Westminster.
Перевод (Бобров и Богословская):
Миссис Сауткотт только что исполнилось двадцать пять лет и по сему случаю некоему рядовому лейб-гвардии, наделенному пророческим даром, было видение, что в оный знаменательный день твердь земная разверзнется и поглотит Лондон с Вестминстером.
Не так прочли “of whom... the sublime appearance”? :-)