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Updated: June 7, 2025
The drunken patriot had them in his cap, and produced them. Casting his eyes over Gabelle's letter, the same personage in authority showed some disorder and surprise, and looked at Darnay with a close attention. He left escort and escorted without saying a word, however, and went into the guard-room; meanwhile, they sat upon their horses outside the gate.
Lorry either detected, or fancied it detected, on his face, as it turned towards Charles Darnay, the same singular look that had been upon it when it turned towards him in the passages of the Court House. He recovered himself so quickly, however, that Mr. Lorry had doubts of his business eye.
He and his daughter had been unwilling witnesses for the prosecution, called to give evidence that might be distorted into corroboration of a paid spy's falsehoods as to Darnay's dealings with the French king. Darnay kissed Lucie Manette's hand fervently and gratefully, and warmly thanked his counsel, Mr. Stryver.
"Darnay," he said, "I bring you a request from your wife." "What is it?" "There is no time you must comply. Take off your boots and coat, and put on mine." "Carton, there is no escaping from this place. It is madness." "Do I ask you to escape?" said Carton, forcing the changes upon him. "Now sit at the table and write what I dictate." "To whom do I address it?" "To no one."
"Yes, I could. I will, if you ask it." Mr. Carton's manner was so careless as to be almost insolent. He stood, half turned from the prisoner, lounging with his elbow against the bar. "I do ask it. Accept my cordial thanks." "What," said Carton, still only half turned towards him, "do you expect, Mr. Darnay?" "The worst." "It's the wisest thing to expect, and the likeliest.
It is very hard for me to hear her spoken of in that tone of yours, Charles Darnay." "It is a tone of fervent admiration, true homage, and deep love, Doctor Manette!" he said deferentially. There was another blank silence before her father rejoined: "I believe it. I do you justice; I believe it."
Lucie sat by her father; Darnay sat beside her; Carton leaned against a window. The curtains were long and white, and some of the thunder-gusts that whirled into the corner, caught them up to the ceiling, and waved them like spectral wings. "The rain-drops are still falling, large, heavy, and few," said Doctor Manette. "It comes slowly." "It comes surely," said Carton.
Nobody had made any acknowledgment of Mr. Carton's part in the day's proceedings; nobody had known of it. He was unrobed, and was none the better for it in appearance. "If you knew what a conflict goes on in the business mind, when the business mind is divided between good-natured impulse and business appearances, you would be amused, Mr. Darnay." Mr.
To him, now entered Charles Darnay, at sight of whom he laid aside his book and held out his hand. "Charles Darnay! I rejoice to see you. We have been counting on your return these three or four days past. Mr. Stryver and Sydney Carton were both here yesterday, and both made you out to be more than due."
Charles Darnay was established in England as a higher teacher of the French language who was conversant with French literature. In this age, he would have been a Professor; in that age, he was a Tutor. He read with young men who could find any leisure and interest for the study of a living tongue spoken all over the world, and he cultivated a taste for its stores of knowledge and fancy.
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