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A Tale of Two Cities

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He walked to and fro, with thoughts very busy, until it was time to return to Tellson’s and take leave of Mr. Lorry. As soon as he arrived in Paris he would present himself to this old friend, but he must say nothing of his intention now. He walked back and forth thinking, until it was time to go back to Tellson’s and send off Mr. Lorry. As soon as he arrived in Paris he would find Mr. Lorry again, but he wouldn’t say anything about his plans now.
A carriage with post-horses was ready at the Bank door, and Jerry was booted and equipped. A carriage with post horses was waiting at the door of the bank, and Jerry was there dressed and ready.
“I have delivered that letter,” said Charles Darnay to Mr. Lorry. “I would not consent to your being charged with any written answer, but perhaps you will take a verbal one?” “I have delivered that letter,” said Charles Darnay to Mr. Lorry. “I wouldn’t let him give me a written answer, but will you take a verbal answer?”
“That I will, and readily,” said Mr. Lorry, “if it is not dangerous.” “I will, happily,” said Mr. Lorry, “if it’s not dangerous.”
“Not at all. Though it is to a prisoner in the Abbaye.” “It’s not dangerous at all, though it is to a prisoner at the Abbaye Prison.”
“What is his name?” said Mr. Lorry, with his open pocket-book in his hand. “What’s his name?” said Mr. Lorry. He had his pocketbook in his hand.
“Gabelle.” “Gabelle.”
“Gabelle. And what is the message to the unfortunate Gabelle in prison?” “Gabelle. And what is the message to the unlucky prisoner Gabelle?”
“Simply, ‘that he has received the letter, and will come.’“ “It’s simply that ‘he has received the letter and will come.’”
“Any time mentioned?” “At a specific time?”
“He will start upon his journey to-morrow night.” “He will leave tomorrow night.”
“Any person mentioned?” “Any particular person?”
“No.” “No.”
He helped Mr. Lorry to wrap himself in a number of coats and cloaks, and went out with him from the warm atmosphere of the old Bank, into the misty air of Fleet-street. “My love to Lucie, and to little Lucie,” said Mr. Lorry at parting, “and take precious care of them till I come back.” Charles Darnay shook his head and doubtfully smiled, as the carriage rolled away. He helped Mr. Lorry wrap himself in several coats and cloaks and went out with him from the warm, old bank into the cold misty air of Fleet Street. “Give my love to Lucie and little Lucie,” said Mr. Lorry, as they said goodbye. “And take good care of them until I come back.” Charles Darnay shook his head and smiled uncertainly as the carriage rolled away.
That night—it was the fourteenth of August—he sat up late, and wrote two fervent letters; one was to Lucie, explaining the strong obligation he was under to go to Paris, and showing her, at length, the reasons that he had, for feeling confident that he could become involved in no personal danger there; the other was to the Doctor, confiding Lucie and their dear child to his care, and dwelling on the same topics with the strongest assurances. To both, he wrote that he would despatch letters in proof of his safety, immediately after his arrival. It was the fourteenth of August, and that night Darnay sat up late and wrote two passionate letters. One was to Lucie, explaining his need to go to Paris and assuring her that he would not come to any harm there. The other letter was to the doctor, telling him to take care of Lucie and their daughter, and reassuring him as well that he would be fine. To both of them he wrote that he would send them letters to let them know he was safe as soon as he arrived.
It was a hard day, that day of being among them, with the first reservation of their joint lives on his mind. It was a hard matter to preserve the innocent deceit of which they were profoundly unsuspicious. But, an affectionate glance at his wife, so happy and busy, made him resolute not to tell her what impended (he had been half moved to do it, so strange it was to him to act in anything without her quiet aid), and the day passed quickly. Early in the evening he embraced her, and her scarcely less dear namesake, pretending that he would return by-and-bye (an imaginary engagement took him out, and he had secreted a valise of clothes ready), and so he emerged into the heavy mist of the heavy streets, with a heavier heart. It was hard being with them that day, with the first worries of their married life on his mind. It was hard to keep the secret that they had no suspicions of. But a loving look to his happy, busy wife convinced him not to tell her what was about to happen. (He had almost been moved to tell her; it was so strange to do anything without her quiet help). The day went by quickly, and early in the evening he embraced her and their daughter, pretending that he would come back soon (he told them he had an appointment and had to go out, and he had snuck out a suitcase full of clothes). Then he went out into the heavy mist in the streets with a heavy heart.
The unseen force was drawing him fast to itself, now, and all the tides and winds were setting straight and strong towards it. He left his two letters with a trusty porter, to be delivered half an hour before midnight, and no sooner; took horse for Dover; and began his journey. “For the love of Heaven, of justice, of generosity, of the honour of your noble name!” was the poor prisoner’s cry with which he strengthened his sinking heart, as he left all that was dear on earth behind him, and floated away for the Loadstone Rock. The magnet was drawing him quickly back to France now, and the winds and tides were heading toward it. He left his two letters with a trustworthy porter and told him to deliver them half an hour before midnight, but no sooner. He took a horse to Dover and started his journey. “For the love of Heaven, justice, generosity, and of the honor of your family name!” was what Gabelle, the poor prisoner, had said. Darnay recalled these words, which gave him strength as he left all that he loved on earth behind him, and sailed back toward France.
The end of the second book. The end of Book Two.

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