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A Tale of Two Cities

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Perfectly still and silent, and not even fallen back in her chair, she sat under his hand, utterly insensible; with her eyes open and fixed upon him, and with that last expression looking as if it were carved or branded into her forehead. So close was her hold upon his arm, that he feared to detach himself lest he should hurt her; therefore he called out loudly for assistance without moving. She sat completely still and silent in her chair, completely shocked. Her eyes were open and focused on him, and she still had that expression on her forehead, as if it had been carved or branded there. She was holding onto his arm so tightly that he was afraid that if he took it away he would hurt her. He stayed still and yelled out for help.
A wild-looking woman, whom even in his agitation, Mr. Lorry observed to be all of a red colour, and to have red hair, and to be dressed in some extraordinary tight-fitting fashion, and to have on her head a most wonderful bonnet like a Grenadier wooden measure, and good measure too, or a great Stilton cheese, came running into the room in advance of the inn servants, and soon settled the question of his detachment from the poor young lady, by laying a brawny hand upon his chest, and sending him flying back against the nearest wall. A wild-looking woman came running into the room ahead of some of the hotel staff. Even in his agitation, Mr. Lorry noticed she was all in red, with red hair, and wore a bizarre, tight-fitting outfit and a bonnet that looked like a soldier’s hat, or a large wooden spoon, or a block of cheese. The woman detached him from Miss Manette’s grip by laying a brawny hand on Mr. Lorry’s chest and throwing him against the nearest wall.
(“I really think this must be a man!” was Mr. Lorry’s breathless reflection, simultaneously with his coming against the wall.) (“I think she’s actually a man!” Mr. Lorry thought as he hit the wall.)
“Why, look at you all!” bawled this figure, addressing the inn servants. “Why don’t you go and fetch things, instead of standing there staring at me? I am not so much to look at, am I? Why don’t you go and fetch things? I’ll let you know, if you don’t bring smelling-salts, cold water, and vinegar, quick, I will.” “Why, look at you all!” the woman yelled at the inn servants. “Why don’t you go get some things to help her instead of standing there staring at me? I am not that pretty, am I? Why don’t you go get some things to help her. I’ll teach you a lesson if you don’t bring me smelling salts, cold water, and vinegar quickly!”
There was an immediate dispersal for these restoratives, and she softly laid the patient on a sofa, and tended her with great skill and gentleness: calling her “my precious!” and “my bird!” and spreading her golden hair aside over her shoulders with great pride and care. The servants immediately ran off, and the woman softly laid Miss Manette on a sofa. She attended to her with great skill and gentleness, calling her “my precious!” and “my bird!” and spreading her blonde hair out over her shoulders with great pride and care.
“And you in brown!” she said, indignantly turning to Mr. Lorry; “couldn’t you tell her what you had to tell her, without frightening her to death? Look at her, with her pretty pale face and her cold hands. Do you call THAT being a Banker?” “And you in the brown!” she said, turning angrily to Mr. Lorry. “Couldn’t you say what you needed to say without frightening her to death? Look at her, with her pretty pale face and her cold hands. Do you call that being a banker?!”
Mr. Lorry was so exceedingly disconcerted by a question so hard to answer, that he could only look on, at a distance, with much feebler sympathy and humility, while the strong woman, having banished the inn servants under the mysterious penalty of “letting them know” something not mentioned if they stayed there, staring, recovered her charge by a regular series of gradations, and coaxed her to lay her drooping head upon her shoulder. Mr. Lorry was so unsettled by the tricky question that he could only look on from a distance with pathetic sympathy and humility. Meanwhile, the strong woman, having sent away the servants with the vague threat that she would “teach them a lesson,” which she didn’t specify, slowly brought Miss Manette back to consciousness and placed the young lady’s drooping head on her shoulder.
“I hope she will do well now,” said Mr. Lorry. “I hope she’ll feel better now,” said Mr. Lorry.
“No thanks to you in brown, if she does. My darling pretty!” “No thanks to you in the bown, if she does,” the woman responded. “My pretty darling!”
“I hope,” said Mr. Lorry, after another pause of feeble sympathy and humility, “that you accompany Miss Manette to France?” “I hope you will accompany Miss Manette to France,” said Mr. Lorry after another pause of pathetic sympathy and humility.
“A likely thing, too!” replied the strong woman. “If it was ever intended that I should go across salt water, do you suppose Providence would have cast my lot in an island?” “Not very likely!” replied the strong woman. “If I was supposed to travel overseas, do you suppose Fate would have put me on an island?”
This being another question hard to answer, Mr. Jarvis Lorry withdrew to consider it. This was another tricky question, and Mr. Jarvis Lorry went away to think about it.

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