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A Tale of Two Cities

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For a moment, he held the fair face from him to look at the well-remembered expression on the forehead, and then laid the bright golden hair against his little brown wig, with a genuine tenderness and delicacy which, if such things be old-fashioned, were as old as Adam. He held her beautiful face in his hands for a moment and looked at the expression on her forehead that he remembered so well. Then he touched her head with his tenderly, her blond hair pressing against his little brown wig. The gesture was old-fashioned enough to have been around since the days of Adam and Eve.
The door of the Doctor’s room opened, and he came out with Charles Darnay. He was so deadly pale—which had not been the case when they went in together—that no vestige of colour was to be seen in his face. But, in the composure of his manner he was unaltered, except that to the shrewd glance of Mr. Lorry it disclosed some shadowy indication that the old air of avoidance and dread had lately passed over him, like a cold wind. The door of Dr. Manette’s room opened and the doctor came out with Charles Darnay. Dr. Manette hadn’t looked pale at all when they went into the room together, but now he looked so deathly pale that there was no trace of color in his face. He kept his composure, though. Only the shrewd Mr. Lorry noticed that he seemed a little like the way he had been after his release from prison.
He gave his arm to his daughter, and took her down-stairs to the chariot which Mr. Lorry had hired in honour of the day. The rest followed in another carriage, and soon, in a neighbouring church, where no strange eyes looked on, Charles Darnay and Lucie Manette were happily married. The doctor offered his arm to Lucie, and he took her downstairs to the chariot that Mr. Lorry had hired for the occasion. The rest of them followed in another carriage, and soon Charles Darnay and Lucie Manette were happily married privately in a nearby church.
Besides the glancing tears that shone among the smiles of the little group when it was done, some diamonds, very bright and sparkling, glanced on the bride’s hand, which were newly released from the dark obscurity of one of Mr. Lorry’s pockets. They returned home to breakfast, and all went well, and in due course the golden hair that had mingled with the poor shoemaker’s white locks in the Paris garret, were mingled with them again in the morning sunlight, on the threshold of the door at parting. Everyone in the little group that watched them get married was smiling and had tears in their eyes. Lucie had some diamonds on her hand that Mr. Lorry had given to her out of one of his pockets. They all went home for breakfast, and all of it went well. Soon Miss Manette and her father, who had first embraced in the attic in Paris, were embracing again in the morning sunlight. They stood together in the doorway and said goodbye.
It was a hard parting, though it was not for long. But her father cheered her, and said at last, gently disengaging himself from her enfolding arms, “Take her, Charles! She is yours!” It was hard for them to say goodbye, though it didn’t last long. Her father cheered for her, and gently pulling himself away from her embrace, finally said, “Take her, Charles! She is yours!”
And her agitated hand waved to them from a chaise window, and she was gone. She waved to them emotionally from a window of the chaise as she and her husband drove off. Then she was gone.
The corner being out of the way of the idle and curious, and the preparations having been very simple and few, the Doctor, Mr. Lorry, and Miss Pross, were left quite alone. It was when they turned into the welcome shade of the cool old hall, that Mr. Lorry observed a great change to have come over the Doctor; as if the golden arm uplifted there, had struck him a poisoned blow. The street corner was off the main street and the wedding festivities had been very small and simple. The doctor, Mr. Lorry, and Miss Pross were now left all alone. When they went back inside in the welcome shade of the hall of the doctor’s house, Mr. Lorry noticed that something had changed about the doctor. It was as if he had been struck by the golden arm of the goldsmith next door. He looked sick.
He had naturally repressed much, and some revulsion might have been expected in him when the occasion for repression was gone. But, it was the old scared lost look that troubled Mr. Lorry; and through his absent manner of clasping his head and drearily wandering away into his own room when they got up-stairs, Mr. Lorry was reminded of Defarge the wine-shop keeper, and the starlight ride. He had kept many of his feelings to himself, of course, and some strong emotions might have been expected to come out of him once the bride and groom had left. But what worried Mr. Lorry was the frightened look on the doctor’s face, and the fact that the doctor had absent-mindedly grabbed his head in his hands and wandered off into his room when they got upstairs. It reminded Mr. Lorry of Defarge, the owner of the wine shop, and their night ride away from Paris under the stars.
“I think,” he whispered to Miss Pross, after anxious consideration, “I think we had best not speak to him just now, or at all disturb him. I must look in at Tellson’s; so I will go there at once and come back presently. Then, we will take him a ride into the country, and dine there, and all will be well.” “I think it would be best if we didn’t talk to him right now or disturb him at all,” he whispered to Miss Pross. “I need to go to Tellson’s Bank. I’ll go there now and come back very soon, and then we will take him on a ride into the country and eat dinner there. Everything will be fine.”

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