He embraced her, solemnly commended her to Heaven, and humbly thanked Heaven
for having bestowed her on him. By-and-bye, they went into the house.
He hugged her, asked that Heaven watch over her, and thanked Heaven for giving
her to him. Then they went into the house.
There was no one bidden to the marriage but Mr. Lorry; there was even to be no
bridesmaid but the gaunt Miss Pross. The marriage was to make no change in their
place of residence; they had been able to extend it, by taking to themselves the
upper rooms formerly belonging to the apocryphal invisible lodger, and they
desired nothing more.
No one was invited to the wedding except for Mr. Lorry. The only bridesmaid
was Miss Pross. The married couple wouldn’t move to another house. They would
take the upper rooms that had previously belonged to the lodger that they never
saw, and they wanted nothing more.
Doctor Manette was very cheerful at the little supper. They were only three at
table, and Miss Pross made the third. He regretted that Charles was not there;
was more than half disposed to object to the loving little plot that kept him
away; and drank to him affectionately.
Doctor Manette was very happy at their little supper. There were only three of
them at the table. Miss Pross was the third. He wished that Charles had been
there, and he was nearly ready to object to the romantic little plan that kept
Charles away. He toasted to him warmly.
So, the time came for him to bid Lucie good night, and they separated. But, in
the stillness of the third hour of the morning, Lucie came downstairs again, and
stole into his room; not free from unshaped fears, beforehand.
The time came when he had to say goodnight to Lucie and they parted ways. But
at three in the morning Lucie came downstairs again and snuck into his room,
bothered by fears and worries.
All things, however, were in their places; all was quiet; and he lay asleep,
his white hair picturesque on the untroubled pillow, and his hands lying quiet
on the coverlet. She put her needless candle in the shadow at a distance, crept
up to his bed, and put her lips to his; then, leaned over him, and looked at
Everything was in order, though. It was quiet, and he was sleeping. His white
hair looked pretty on his pillow, and his hands rested quietly on the blanket.
She put her candle in the shadows far away and snuck up close to his bed. She
kissed him, then leaned over and looked at him.
Into his handsome face, the bitter waters of captivity had worn; but, he
covered up their tracks with a determination so strong, that he held the mastery
of them even in his sleep. A more remarkable face in its quiet, resolute, and
guarded struggle with an unseen assailant, was not to be beheld in all the wide
dominions of sleep, that night.
Being a prisoner had left its marks on his handsome face. But he worked so
hard to cover up the marks that he hid them even when he was asleep. A more
remarkable face than his could not be found that night, as he quietly and
determinedly struggled with his demons.
She timidly laid her hand on his dear breast, and put up a prayer that she
might ever be as true to him as her love aspired to be, and as his sorrows
deserved. Then, she withdrew her hand, and kissed his lips once more, and went
away. So, the sunrise came, and the shadows of the leaves of the plane-tree
moved upon his face, as softly as her lips had moved in praying for him.
She timidly put her hand on his chest and prayed that she could be as devoted
to him as she hoped to be, and as his terrible past deserved. Then she removed
her hand, kissed him again, and left. The sun rose and the shadows of the leaves
of the plane tree moved on his face as softly as her lips had moved when she had
prayed for him.