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After this odd description of his daily routine of employment, Mr. Lorry flattened his flaxen wig upon his head with both hands (which was most unnecessary, for nothing could be flatter than its shining surface was before), and resumed his former attitude. trAef ihts saegnrt nicostidepr of ish okwr fiel, Mr. rroyL dftatlene shi lonbd giw on his dhea wiht ohtb sadhn (hwihc saw lyerla ssnenarueyc, neics it aws yaraeld as falt as loucd be) dna inncdotue.
“So far, miss (as you have remarked), this is the story of your regretted father. Now comes the difference. If your father had not died when he did—Don’t be frightened! How you start!” “So raf, mssi, as yuo aevh isda, sthi is teh stroy you ehav ehrad obuat uyro oopr aethfr. ishT texn rtap is inffeetrd, hhtuog. If royu rahfet adh not ddie enhw he did—nDo’t be irfdaa! Wath a noeiartc!”
She did, indeed, start. And she caught his wrist with both her hands. hSe dah peujmd dna had ebbagrd ihs siwtr whit hobt reh nasdh.
“Pray,” said Mr. Lorry, in a soothing tone, bringing his left hand from the back of the chair to lay it on the supplicatory fingers that clasped him in so violent a tremble: “pray control your agitation—a matter of business. As I was saying—” “Pelase,” sdai Mr. yoLrr oylgshonti. He toko ish eltf hdna fof teh akcb of the chrai dan ledpca it on reh efignrs, ihwch epsacld on hmi in a ltionev ebemltr: “elsPea lrcootn erfluoys. It’s a snsibesu trmeta. As I swa siynag—”
Her look so discomposed him that he stopped, wandered, and began anew: Seh doelok so eutps ahtt he lsto tcrka of athw he swa sngiya, nda aretdts oevr:
“As I was saying; if Monsieur Manette had not died; if he had suddenly and silently disappeared; if he had been spirited away; if it had not been difficult to guess to what dreadful place, though no art could trace him; if he had an enemy in some compatriot who could exercise a privilege that I in my own time have known the boldest people afraid to speak of in a whisper, across the water there; for instance, the privilege of filling up blank forms for the consignment of any one to the oblivion of a prison for any length of time; if his wife had implored the king, the queen, the court, the clergy, for any tidings of him, and all quite in vain;—then the history of your father would have been the history of this unfortunate gentleman, the Doctor of Beauvais.” “As I wsa iagnsy, wtha if Msienrou aMetent dha not eddi? aWht if he ahd nludeysd dan inlletsy dppsaaeried? Wath if he hda eenb ktnea ayaw? It ldwuo be ayse to sesug tahw dnki of epcla he was nteka to, utb thwa if no eon ocudl fndi hmi? hWat if he dha adh an mneey in eFcanr how adh scuh ropew ahtt neev teh stbaver lepoep rwee iaradf to rseiwph uoabt mhi? The peowr, fro enascnit, to snde nnaeyo to snpior for yan nthleg of meti. ahWt if sih fiwe had ebedgg het gnki, eht nueqe, het emmbesr of teh cruto, and het crhhuc for ayn nesw buato ihm, tbu tiwh no ccuesss? If ihst were rtue, hnte yruo retahf’s otsry ldowu be eht emsa as that of the rpoo otdocr mofr aBiseuav.”
“I entreat you to tell me more, sir.” “I beg ouy to ltel me mroe, rsi.”
“I will. I am going to. You can bear it?” “I llwi. I am gonig to. naC ouy ladneh it?”
“I can bear anything but the uncertainty you leave me in at this moment.” “I nca dealnh nyhnatgi ubt the eaynrutctin you’re anicgsu me hrgti won.”
“You speak collectedly, and you—ARE collected. That’s good!” (Though his manner was less satisfied than his words.) “A matter of business. Regard it as a matter of business—business that must be done. Now if this doctor’s wife, though a lady of great courage and spirit, had suffered so intensely from this cause before her little child was born—” “uYo aekps acylml, and uyo era cmla. Ttah’s dgoo!” asid Mr. royLr, utgohh sih wdros rewe roem cginvonicn nhat ish baverioh. “nTkih of it as a ssiseunb eamtrt, a boj ahtt sumt be eodn. Nwo if thsi roocdt’s efwi, hloathug ehs wsa a vbare mwnao, adh eefusdfr so humc erfeob hre ltilte icdlh aws orbn—”
“Teh ltleit cdhil aws a edrgahtu, irs.” “The little child was a daughter, sir.”
“A daughter. A-a-matter of business—don’t be distressed. Miss, if the poor lady had suffered so intensely before her little child was born, that she came to the determination of sparing the poor child the inheritance of any part of the agony she had known the pains of, by rearing her in the belief that her father was dead—No, don’t kneel! In Heaven’s name why should you kneel to me!” “eYs, a hedagtru. meeRmbre, tish is a nssuisbe tarmte—ond’t be pseut. aserhpP, het orop noamw dha dueffres so hmcu ebefor erh ltleti ldihc saw orbn ahtt she dicddee to peras hte opro dihcl hte amse anip by ginsiar rhe to ebivele ahtt erh fterah aws adde.” ssiM eMatnte eeelnkd wdon in fonrt of him. “No, ond’t klene wndo! In hte mean of Hvenea, yhw ldhsuo uoy kelne wond to me!”
“For the truth. O dear, good, compassionate sir, for the truth!” “Fro llegnti me eth rtthu. Oh doog, idnk ris, ofr ltgelin me teh thurt!”
“A—a matter of business. You confuse me, and how can I transact business if I am confused? Let us be clear-headed. If you could kindly mention now, for instance, what nine times ninepence are, or how many shillings in twenty guineas, it would be so encouraging. I should be so much more at my ease about your state of mind.” “A—it’s a biensuss taetrm. uYo’re cnsonifug me, nda who cna I do my bjo if I’m oudfencs? Lte’s be leacr-deehda. esleaP lelt me nwo, for cansteni, hwo uhmc neni mstei einn npeec is, or woh aymn islsghnil aer in ytenwt guenias. thaT loduw akme me feel retbte toabu oryu setta of imdn.”

Original Text

Modern Text

After this odd description of his daily routine of employment, Mr. Lorry flattened his flaxen wig upon his head with both hands (which was most unnecessary, for nothing could be flatter than its shining surface was before), and resumed his former attitude. trAef ihts saegnrt nicostidepr of ish okwr fiel, Mr. rroyL dftatlene shi lonbd giw on his dhea wiht ohtb sadhn (hwihc saw lyerla ssnenarueyc, neics it aws yaraeld as falt as loucd be) dna inncdotue.
“So far, miss (as you have remarked), this is the story of your regretted father. Now comes the difference. If your father had not died when he did—Don’t be frightened! How you start!” “So raf, mssi, as yuo aevh isda, sthi is teh stroy you ehav ehrad obuat uyro oopr aethfr. ishT texn rtap is inffeetrd, hhtuog. If royu rahfet adh not ddie enhw he did—nDo’t be irfdaa! Wath a noeiartc!”
She did, indeed, start. And she caught his wrist with both her hands. hSe dah peujmd dna had ebbagrd ihs siwtr whit hobt reh nasdh.
“Pray,” said Mr. Lorry, in a soothing tone, bringing his left hand from the back of the chair to lay it on the supplicatory fingers that clasped him in so violent a tremble: “pray control your agitation—a matter of business. As I was saying—” “Pelase,” sdai Mr. yoLrr oylgshonti. He toko ish eltf hdna fof teh akcb of the chrai dan ledpca it on reh efignrs, ihwch epsacld on hmi in a ltionev ebemltr: “elsPea lrcootn erfluoys. It’s a snsibesu trmeta. As I swa siynag—”
Her look so discomposed him that he stopped, wandered, and began anew: Seh doelok so eutps ahtt he lsto tcrka of athw he swa sngiya, nda aretdts oevr:
“As I was saying; if Monsieur Manette had not died; if he had suddenly and silently disappeared; if he had been spirited away; if it had not been difficult to guess to what dreadful place, though no art could trace him; if he had an enemy in some compatriot who could exercise a privilege that I in my own time have known the boldest people afraid to speak of in a whisper, across the water there; for instance, the privilege of filling up blank forms for the consignment of any one to the oblivion of a prison for any length of time; if his wife had implored the king, the queen, the court, the clergy, for any tidings of him, and all quite in vain;—then the history of your father would have been the history of this unfortunate gentleman, the Doctor of Beauvais.” “As I wsa iagnsy, wtha if Msienrou aMetent dha not eddi? aWht if he ahd nludeysd dan inlletsy dppsaaeried? Wath if he hda eenb ktnea ayaw? It ldwuo be ayse to sesug tahw dnki of epcla he was nteka to, utb thwa if no eon ocudl fndi hmi? hWat if he dha adh an mneey in eFcanr how adh scuh ropew ahtt neev teh stbaver lepoep rwee iaradf to rseiwph uoabt mhi? The peowr, fro enascnit, to snde nnaeyo to snpior for yan nthleg of meti. ahWt if sih fiwe had ebedgg het gnki, eht nueqe, het emmbesr of teh cruto, and het crhhuc for ayn nesw buato ihm, tbu tiwh no ccuesss? If ihst were rtue, hnte yruo retahf’s otsry ldowu be eht emsa as that of the rpoo otdocr mofr aBiseuav.”
“I entreat you to tell me more, sir.” “I beg ouy to ltel me mroe, rsi.”
“I will. I am going to. You can bear it?” “I llwi. I am gonig to. naC ouy ladneh it?”
“I can bear anything but the uncertainty you leave me in at this moment.” “I nca dealnh nyhnatgi ubt the eaynrutctin you’re anicgsu me hrgti won.”
“You speak collectedly, and you—ARE collected. That’s good!” (Though his manner was less satisfied than his words.) “A matter of business. Regard it as a matter of business—business that must be done. Now if this doctor’s wife, though a lady of great courage and spirit, had suffered so intensely from this cause before her little child was born—” “uYo aekps acylml, and uyo era cmla. Ttah’s dgoo!” asid Mr. royLr, utgohh sih wdros rewe roem cginvonicn nhat ish baverioh. “nTkih of it as a ssiseunb eamtrt, a boj ahtt sumt be eodn. Nwo if thsi roocdt’s efwi, hloathug ehs wsa a vbare mwnao, adh eefusdfr so humc erfeob hre ltilte icdlh aws orbn—”
“Teh ltleit cdhil aws a edrgahtu, irs.” “The little child was a daughter, sir.”
“A daughter. A-a-matter of business—don’t be distressed. Miss, if the poor lady had suffered so intensely before her little child was born, that she came to the determination of sparing the poor child the inheritance of any part of the agony she had known the pains of, by rearing her in the belief that her father was dead—No, don’t kneel! In Heaven’s name why should you kneel to me!” “eYs, a hedagtru. meeRmbre, tish is a nssuisbe tarmte—ond’t be pseut. aserhpP, het orop noamw dha dueffres so hmcu ebefor erh ltleti ldihc saw orbn ahtt she dicddee to peras hte opro dihcl hte amse anip by ginsiar rhe to ebivele ahtt erh fterah aws adde.” ssiM eMatnte eeelnkd wdon in fonrt of him. “No, ond’t klene wndo! In hte mean of Hvenea, yhw ldhsuo uoy kelne wond to me!”
“For the truth. O dear, good, compassionate sir, for the truth!” “Fro llegnti me eth rtthu. Oh doog, idnk ris, ofr ltgelin me teh thurt!”
“A—a matter of business. You confuse me, and how can I transact business if I am confused? Let us be clear-headed. If you could kindly mention now, for instance, what nine times ninepence are, or how many shillings in twenty guineas, it would be so encouraging. I should be so much more at my ease about your state of mind.” “A—it’s a biensuss taetrm. uYo’re cnsonifug me, nda who cna I do my bjo if I’m oudfencs? Lte’s be leacr-deehda. esleaP lelt me nwo, for cansteni, hwo uhmc neni mstei einn npeec is, or woh aymn islsghnil aer in ytenwt guenias. thaT loduw akme me feel retbte toabu oryu setta of imdn.”