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He found the Doctor reading in his arm-chair at a window. The energy which had
at once supported him under his old sufferings and aggravated their sharpness,
had been gradually restored to him. He was now a very energetic man indeed, with
great firmness of purpose, strength of resolution, and vigour of action. In his
recovered energy he was sometimes a little fitful and sudden, as he had at first
been in the exercise of his other recovered faculties; but, this had never been
frequently observable, and had grown more and more rare.
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He found the doctor reading in an armchair near the window. The energy that
had supported him when he was a prisoner had gradually come back to him, and he
was now a very energetic man—very driven and decisive. His energy sometimes came
and went quickly, as had happened when he first recovered his other faculties,
but this didn’t happen too often and was happening less and less
frequently.
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He studied much, slept little, sustained a great deal of fatigue with ease,
and was equably cheerful. To him, now entered Charles Darnay, at sight of whom
he laid aside his book and held out his hand.
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He studied a lot, slept little, handled fatigue easily, and was usually
cheerful. Charles Darnay now entered the room and went toward him. The doctor
put his book down and held out his hand.
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“Charles Darnay! I rejoice to see you. We have been counting on your return
these three or four days past. Mr. Stryver and Sydney Carton were both here
yesterday, and both made you out to be more than due.”
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“Charles Darnay! I’m happy to see you! We have been expecting you for three or
four days. Mr. Stryver and Sydney Carton were both here yesterday and both said
you should have visited by now.”
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“I am obliged to them for their interest in the matter,” he answered, a little
coldly as to them, though very warmly as to the Doctor. “Miss Manette—”
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“I am thankful to them for their interest in me,” he answered, a little
indifferent about them but very kind to the doctor. “Miss Manette—”
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“Is well,” said the Doctor, as he stopped short, “and your return will delight
us all. She has gone out on some household matters, but will soon be
home.”
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“Is doing well,” the doctor continued. “And your return will make us all
happy. She is out on some household errands, but she will be home soon.”
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“Doctor Manette, I knew she was from home. I took the opportunity of her being
from home, to beg to speak to you.”
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“Dr. Manette, I knew she wasn’t at home. I took the opportunity of her being
out to come speak to you.”
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There was a blank silence.
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Dr. Manette was silent.
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“Yes?” said the Doctor, with evident constraint. “Bring your chair here, and
speak on.”
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“Yes?” said the doctor, controlling himself. “Bring your chair over here and
tell me what it is.”
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He complied as to the chair, but appeared to find the speaking on less
easy.
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Mr. Darnay brought over the chair as he had been told, but he had trouble
saying what he wanted to say.
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“I have had the happiness, Doctor Manette, of being so intimate here,” so he
at length began, “for some year and a half, that I hope the topic on which I am
about to touch may not—”
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“I have been lucky, Dr. Manette, to spend the last year and a half enjoying
the comfort of your home,” he began after a long while. “I hope what I’m about
to say won’t—”
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He was stayed by the Doctor’s putting out his hand to stop him. When he had
kept it so a little while, he said, drawing it back:
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The doctor reached out his hand to stop him. After he had kept it there a
little while, he drew back his hand and asked:
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“Is Lucie the topic?”
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“Is Lucie what you want to talk about?”
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“She is.”
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“She is.”
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“It is hard for me to speak of her at any time. It is very hard for me to hear
her spoken of in that tone of yours, Charles Darnay.”
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“It is hard for me to talk about her at any time. It is especially hard for me
to hear you talk about her in that tone, Charles Darnay.”
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“It is a tone of fervent admiration, true homage, and deep love, Doctor
Manette!” he said deferentially.
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“It is a tone of great admiration, true respect, and deep love, Dr. Manette!”
he said respectfully.
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There was another blank silence before her father rejoined:
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The doctor was silent again. Then he replied:
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“I believe it. I do you justice; I believe it.”
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“I believe you. I trust you. I believe you.”
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His constraint was so manifest, and it was so manifest, too, that it
originated in an unwillingness to approach the subject, that Charles Darnay
hesitated.
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He was so restrained and so unwilling to talk about the subject that Charles
Darnay hesitated.
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“Shall I go on, sir?”
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“Shall I continue, sir?”
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Another blank.
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The doctor was silent again.
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“Yes, go on.”
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“Yes. Continue.”
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“You anticipate what I would say, though you cannot know how earnestly I say
it, how earnestly I feel it, without knowing my secret heart, and the hopes and
fears and anxieties with which it has long been laden. Dear Doctor Manette, I
love your daughter fondly, dearly, disinterestedly, devotedly. If ever there
were love in the world, I love her. You have loved yourself; let your old love
speak for me!”
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“You know what I’m about to say. But you can’t know how serious I am when I
say it, and how much I feel it, without knowing my true thoughts and feelings
and my deepest hopes and fears. Dr. Manette, I am in love with your daughter. I
am devoted to her and think only of her well-being. If there was ever love in
the world, I love her. You have been in love yourself. Think of the love you
once had in your life when you think of me!”
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