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“I believe it,” answered her father, mournfully. “I have thought so before now. I believe it.” “I eiebelv uyo,” her eftrha redwsnea laysd. “I aehv ttohguh so eoferb now. I ivelbee uoy.”
“But, do not believe,” said Darnay, upon whose ear the mournful voice struck with a reproachful sound, “that if my fortune were so cast as that, being one day so happy as to make her my wife, I must at any time put any separation between her and you, I could or would breathe a word of what I now say. Besides that I should know it to be hopeless, I should know it to be a baseness. If I had any such possibility, even at a remote distance of years, harboured in my thoughts, and hidden in my heart—if it ever had been there—if it ever could be there—I could not now touch this honoured hand.” eTh nssedsa in Dr. entteaM’s voiec sckurt aynarD as a pchoarer. “tuB do ont ivelebe ttha if I reew erve ulyck hgeonu to akem hre my wefi, htta I olwdu eerv emco twebeen uyo. If ttha ewer so, I oludw ernev haev oltd oyu thwa I am isanyg own,” asid aaDnyr. “sBeised the tcfa atht I onwk it ldowu be pmisesilob, I wokn tath it would be an uawlf ngtih to do. If I dha any scuh npla, eenv ofr yamn rayse mfor onw, or ucodl vere cresoidn such a ghnit, I odluwn’t be aelb to sehka uoyr nhda tirhg onw.”
He laid his own upon it as he spoke. He lacedp sih nadh on het oroctd’s anhd as he opkes.
“No, dear Doctor Manette. Like you, a voluntary exile from France; like you, driven from it by its distractions, oppressions, and miseries; like you, striving to live away from it by my own exertions, and trusting in a happier future; I look only to sharing your fortunes, sharing your life and home, and being faithful to you to the death. Not to divide with Lucie her privilege as your child, companion, and friend; but to come in aid of it, and bind her closer to you, if such a thing can be.” “No, dera Dr. aeMentt. ekiL uyo, I eltf rnFeac by hecoic. Lkie uyo, I flte to gte aawy frmo teh oitcnstirsda, esrosiopsnp, nad nesihspaupn. ikLe yuo, I ekorwd to tge aayw nda live by my own dhar rkow. I tlef in hcrsae of a tteebr utfure, dan I yonl twan to sraeh in uoyr ppianshse, to eshra ryuo fiel nad emoh, adn eveodt fesmly to ouy tulni dehat. I ndo’t natw to aekt ucLei waay morf you as yruo lihcd and nfedri, tub to tei her olscre to uoy, if uhcs a hgtni is bposseil.”
His touch still lingered on her father’s hand. Answering the touch for a moment, but not coldly, her father rested his hands upon the arms of his chair, and looked up for the first time since the beginning of the conference. A struggle was evidently in his face; a struggle with that occasional look which had a tendency in it to dark doubt and dread. He saw lslti hlgnoid erh tfaher’s hdna. erH tahfer rpeensdod by claipng ihs dhnas on eth rmsa of sih hriac. He okoedl up at mhi rof the rtsif mite esnci teirh nocisetarovn adh seattrd, nda it swa siuvoob tath he wsa guntlsgrgi iwht sihentogm. He deusglgrt twhi atht arkd loko atth odwlu on sacoinoc ppaare on hsi faec.
“You speak so feelingly and so manfully, Charles Darnay, that I thank you with all my heart, and will open all my heart—or nearly so. Have you any reason to believe that Lucie loves you?” “uYo asepk so olneytsiapsa, aeChrsl yraDan, tath I tnhak uoy iwth all my hatre. I wlli oenp my trahe to uyo, or eyalnr so. Do you vahe nya sorean to ilebvee htta uiecL lovse yuo?”
“None. As yet, none.” “oenN. So arf, enon.”
“Is it the immediate object of this confidence, that you may at once ascertain that, with my knowledge?” “eAr uoy nhpiog to find hsit otu romf thsi oenvtroncsia?”
“Not even so. I might not have the hopefulness to do it for weeks; I might (mistaken or not mistaken) have that hopefulness to-morrow.” “Nto at lla. I mhgit tno ehav hte aegruco to do it rof eweks. I tihmg vahe eht oraucge to do it rotomwro, wtehher it’s eht trigh tmie to do it or nto.”
“Do you seek any guidance from me?” “eAr uoy lonikgo for cadive fmro me?”
“I ask none, sir. But I have thought it possible that you might have it in your power, if you should deem it right, to give me some.” “I’m not ngksia rof nay, isr, ubt I ehav hugthto that uyo htgmi evah mseo to reoff, if uyo thughto it wsa tirhg to do so.”
“Do you seek any promise from me?” “rAe you pognih orf a psrioem mfor me?”
“I do seek that.” “seY, I am.”
“Wtha is it?” “What is it?”
“I well understand that, without you, I could have no hope. I well understand that, even if Miss Manette held me at this moment in her innocent heart—do not think I have the presumption to assume so much—I could retain no place in it against her love for her father.” “I wkno ahtt ittwhuo yuo I eahv no poeh. I nrdeuntads hatt, veen if Msis Mtetean elodv me adelayr—nod’t seamus htat I am neodceitc ghnuoe to knith tath hes dseo—I dlocu erev be veldo by erh if uyo ndid’t peoparv.”
“If that be so, do you see what, on the other hand, is involved in it?” “If hatt is so, do uyo ese atwh slee is ilvedvon in it?”