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A Tale of Two Cities

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“Your confidence in me ought to be returned with full confidence on my part. My present name, though but slightly changed from my mother’s, is not, as you will remember, my own. I wish to tell you what that is, and why I am in England.” “Your confidence in me should be returned with confidence in you. You may remember that the name I go by now, although it is only slightly changed from my mother’s, is not my own. I want to tell you what my name really is and why I am in England.”
“Stop!” said the Doctor of Beauvais. “Stop!” said the doctor from Beauvais.
“I wish it, that I may the better deserve your confidence, and have no secret from you.” “I want to tell you. So that you will trust me and I will have no secrets from you.
“Stop!” “Stop!”
For an instant, the Doctor even had his two hands at his ears; for another instant, even had his two hands laid on Darnay’s lips. For a moment the doctor had covered his own ears with his hands, and a second later he had covered Darnay’s mouth with them.
“Tell me when I ask you, not now. If your suit should prosper, if Lucie should love you, you shall tell me on your marriage morning. Do you promise?” “Tell me when I ask you, not now. If you are successful and Lucie loves you, tell me the morning you get married. Do you promise?”
“Willingly. “Of course.”
“Give me your hand. She will be home directly, and it is better she should not see us together to-night. Go! God bless you!” “Give me your hand. She will be home soon. It’s better that she doesn’t see us together tonight. Go! God bless you!”
It was dark when Charles Darnay left him, and it was an hour later and darker when Lucie came home; she hurried into the room alone—for Miss Pross had gone straight up-stairs—and was surprised to find his reading-chair empty. It was dark when Charles Darnay left, and it was darker an hour later when Lucie came home. She hurried into the room alone since Miss Pross had gone straight upstairs and was surprised to find the reading chair empty.
“My father!” she called to him. “Father dear!” “Father?” she called to him. “Father dear?”
Nothing was said in answer, but she heard a low hammering sound in his bedroom. Passing lightly across the intermediate room, she looked in at his door and came running back frightened, crying to herself, with her blood all chilled, “What shall I do! What shall I do!” There was no answer, but she heard a faint hammering sound in his bedroom. She tiptoed into the next room and looked into his door and came running back, frightened and crying. “What should I do? What should I do?”
Her uncertainty lasted but a moment; she hurried back, and tapped at his door, and softly called to him. The noise ceased at the sound of her voice, and he presently came out to her, and they walked up and down together for a long time. Her indecision only lasted a moment. She hurried back and knocked on his door, and she called out to him softly. The hammering stopped when she spoke, and he came out to her. They paced up and down together for a long time.
She came down from her bed, to look at him in his sleep that night. He slept heavily, and his tray of shoemaking tools, and his old unfinished work, were all as usual. She got out of bed and went to watch him sleep that night. He slept heavily, and his tray of shoemaking tools and his unfinished shoes were all laid out the way they always were.

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