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She held him closer round the neck, and rocked him on her breast like a child. She hugged him around the neck and rocked him back and forth like a child.
“If, when I tell you, dearest dear, that your agony is over, and that I have come here to take you from it, and that we go to England to be at peace and at rest, I cause you to think of your useful life laid waste, and of our native France so wicked to you, weep for it, weep for it! And if, when I shall tell you of my name, and of my father who is living, and of my mother who is dead, you learn that I have to kneel to my honoured father, and implore his pardon for having never for his sake striven all day and lain awake and wept all night, because the love of my poor mother hid his torture from me, weep for it, weep for it! Weep for her, then, and for me! Good gentlemen, thank God! I feel his sacred tears upon my face, and his sobs strike against my heart. O, see! Thank God for us, thank God!” “I tell you that your agony is over, and that I’ve come here to take you from it, and that we’re going to England to be at peace. If that causes you to think of your wasted life, and how our home country, France, has mistreated you, cry for it! When I tell you my name, and about my father who is living, and about my mother who is dead, if you find out that I must beg my father’s forgiveness because I didn’t stay awake crying all night since my mother never told me of his imprisonment, cry for it! Cry for her, then, and for me! Gentlemen, thank God! I feel God’s tears on my face and his sobbing in my heart. Thank God!”
He had sunk in her arms, and his face dropped on her breast: a sight so touching, yet so terrible in the tremendous wrong and suffering which had gone before it, that the two beholders covered their faces. He had fallen into her arms and rested his head on her chest. The two men were so moved by the sight, and by knowing all the injustice and suffering that had happened before it, that they covered their faces to hide their tears.
When the quiet of the garret had been long undisturbed, and his heaving breast and shaken form had long yielded to the calm that must follow all storms—emblem to humanity, of the rest and silence into which the storm called Life must hush at last—they came forward to raise the father and daughter from the ground. He had gradually dropped to the floor, and lay there in a lethargy, worn out. She had nestled down with him, that his head might lie upon her arm; and her hair drooping over him curtained him from the light. When it had been quiet in the attic for a while and the old man had stopped shaking and gave in to the calm that follows any storm, the two men stepped forward. They lifted the man and his daughter up off the ground. He had slowly fallen to the floor and lay there exhausted. She had settled down with him, keeping her arm under his head. Her hair was draped over his face and shielded him from the light.
“If, without disturbing him,” she said, raising her hand to Mr. Lorry as he stooped over them, after repeated blowings of his nose, “all could be arranged for our leaving Paris at once, so that, from the, very door, he could be taken away—” Miss Manette raised her hand to Mr. Lorry, as he stooped over them after repeatedly blowing his nose, and said, “If we can do it without upsetting him, I would like to leave for Paris right away.”
“But, consider. Is he fit for the journey?” asked Mr. Lorry. “But do you think he is fit to travel?” asked Mr. Lorry.
“More fit for that, I think, than to remain in this city, so dreadful to him.” “More fit to travel, I think, than to stay in this city, where he has been treated so terribly.”
“It is true,” said Defarge, who was kneeling to look on and hear. “More than that; Monsieur Manette is, for all reasons, best out of France. Say, shall I hire a carriage and post-horses?” “It’s true,” said Defarge, who was kneeling nearby. “More importantly, Monsieur Manette will be safer outside of France. Should I hire a carriage and horses?”
“That’s business,” said Mr. Lorry, resuming on the shortest notice his methodical manners; “and if business is to be done, I had better do it.” “That’s a business matter,” said Mr. Lorry, going back to his professional demeanor. “And if business needs to be done, then I should be the one to do it.”
“Then be so kind,” urged Miss Manette, “as to leave us here. You see how composed he has become, and you cannot be afraid to leave him with me now. Why should you be? If you will lock the door to secure us from interruption, I do not doubt that you will find him, when you come back, as quiet as you leave him. In any case, I will take care of him until you return, and then we will remove him straight.” “Then will you please leave us here?” asked Miss Manette. “You see how calm he is now, and you can’t be afraid to leave me here with him. Why should you be? If you will lock the door so no one can bother us, I’m sure you will find him as calm when you return as he is now. In any case, I’ll take care of him until you get back, and then we will move him right away.”