“To Soho?” repeated Mr. Stryver, coldly. “Oh, to be sure! What am I thinking
“To Soho?” repeated Mr. Stryver indifferently. “Oh, yes, of course! What was I
“And I have no doubt,” said Mr. Lorry, “that I was right in the conversation
we had. My opinion is confirmed, and I reiterate my advice.”
“And I’m sure,” said Mr. lorry, “that I was right when we talked this morning.
My opinion has been confirmed, and I repeat the same advice to you.”
“I assure you,” returned Mr. Stryver, in the friendliest way, “that I am sorry
for it on your account, and sorry for it on the poor father’s account. I know
this must always be a sore subject with the family; let us say no more about
“I’m sorry for your sake and sorry for her father’s sake,” said Mr. Stryver in
his friendliest way. “I know this must be a difficult subject for the family.
Let’s not talk about it again.”
“I don’t understand you,” said Mr. Lorry.
“I don’t understand you,” said Mr. Lorry.
“I dare say not,” rejoined Stryver, nodding his head in a smoothing and final
way; “no matter, no matter.”
“Apparently not,” he answered, nodding his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“But it does matter,” Mr. Lorry urged.
“But it does matter,” Mr. Lorry said.
“No it doesn’t; I assure you it doesn’t. Having supposed that there was sense
where there is no sense, and a laudable ambition where there is not a laudable
ambition, I am well out of my mistake, and no harm is done. Young women have
committed similar follies often before, and have repented them in poverty and
obscurity often before. In an unselfish aspect, I am sorry that the thing is
dropped, because it would have been a bad thing for me in a worldly point of
view; in a selfish aspect, I am glad that the thing has dropped, because it
would have been a bad thing for me in a worldly point of view—it is hardly
necessary to say I could have gained nothing by it. There is no harm at all
done. I have not proposed to the young lady, and, between ourselves, I am by no
means certain, on reflection, that I ever should have committed myself to that
extent. Mr. Lorry, you cannot control the mincing vanities and giddinesses of
empty-headed girls; you must not expect to do it, or you will always be
disappointed. Now, pray say no more about it. I tell you, I regret it on account
of others, but I am satisfied on my own account. And I am really very much
obliged to you for allowing me to sound you, and for giving me your advice; you
know the young lady better than I do; you were right, it never would have
“No it doesn’t. I promise you it doesn’t. I had thought that Miss Manette was
a sensible, ambitious woman. I was mistaken. But there is no harm done. Young
women have made similar mistakes many times before and have been sorry for them
when they ended up poor and forgotten. In an unselfish way, I am sorry that the
marriage is not happening because it would have been bad for me from a practical
point of view. In a selfish way, I am glad that it’s not happening, because it
would have been bad for me from a practical point of view. It’s obvious that I
wouldn’t have gained anything by it. There is no harm done. I haven’t proposed
to Miss Manette, and, just between you and me, I am not sure, now that I think
about it, that I should have even thought about it. Mr. Lorry, you can’t control
the changing fancies of empty-headed girls. You can’t expect to, or you will
always be disappointed. Now, please, let’s not talk about it anymore. I tell
you, I’m sorry about it for their sake, but I am happy about it for my own sake.
I am grateful to you for letting me talk to you about it and for giving me your
advice. You know Miss Manette better than I do. You were right. It never would
Mr. Lorry was so taken aback, that he looked quite stupidly at Mr. Stryver
shouldering him towards the door, with an appearance of showering generosity,
forbearance, and goodwill, on his erring head. “Make the best of it, my dear
sir,” said Stryver; “say no more about it; thank you again for allowing me to
sound you; good night!”
Mr. Lorry was so surprised that he stared blankly at Mr. Stryver as Mr.
Stryver shoved him toward the front door and pretended to be in a good mood.
“Make the best of it, my dear sir,” said Stryver. “Let’s talk no more about it.
Thanks again for allowing me to talk to get your opinion. Good night!”
Mr. Lorry was out in the night, before he knew where he was. Mr. Stryver was
lying back on his sofa, winking at his ceiling.
Mr. Lorry was standing outside in the darkness before he knew where he was,
and Mr. Stryver was lying on his sofa, blinking at the ceiling.