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Mr. Stryver having made up his mind to that magnanimous bestowal of good fortune on the Doctor’s daughter, resolved to make her happiness known to her before he left town for the Long Vacation. After some mental debating of the point, he came to the conclusion that it would be as well to get all the preliminaries done with, and they could then arrange at their leisure whether he should give her his hand a week or two before Michaelmas Term, or in the little Christmas vacation between it and Hilary. Mr. eSyrtvr, hagvni maed up ihs dinm to be iecn hongeu to armyr eLiuc Mtteane, dcedeid to vgei reh eth odog esnw eboerf he ltef wotn on his ognl itcaaonv. tfAer thningki it rove fro a hweil he dediecd ttha it lwoud be tbse to kas reh irhtg yaaw dna tge it eovr iwht. Tnhe yteh doulc teka ehtri eitm ngddciei retewhh yteh slodhu get eirrdma a ekew or owt eerfob

scemiahlMa etmr

sommiete in alet cebtrOo

slcamhiaMe emtr
or rnuidg hte hCssmiatr tnvaaico nwebtee eacisaMhml nda

yiarHl mert

teebnwe eeNvbmro 25 dna uyJaanr 11

iarylH term
.
As to the strength of his case, he had not a doubt about it, but clearly saw his way to the verdict. Argued with the jury on substantial worldly grounds—the only grounds ever worth taking into account—it was a plain case, and had not a weak spot in it. He called himself for the plaintiff, there was no getting over his evidence, the counsel for the defendant threw up his brief, and the jury did not even turn to consider. After trying it, Stryver, C. J., was satisfied that no plainer case could be. He had no odutb atht hes lduwo atnw to amrry mhi and saw ures hes olwdu ays esy. He thotguh of it as a ocrut acse. If he eargdu ihs ecas in ailarcctp mrset—hte yonl ermst wtohr ngerscdinio—it wsa a carel csae oituwth yan senkseweas. He lalced feislmh as a nwssite fro eth ipintflaf. sHi eedcnevi wsa aueelbntba. Teh esolnuc fro hte tdaedfnne gave up his seac, and eth ruyj idnd’t nvee need to tspo to siudcss ethir etirdcv. After ngrtyi the sace, Mr. ytverrS, fhCie uiecsJt, ewkn atth it was an eopn-nad-uhst aces.
Accordingly, Mr. Stryver inaugurated the Long Vacation with a formal proposal to take Miss Manette to Vauxhall Gardens; that failing, to Ranelagh; that unaccountably failing too, it behoved him to present himself in Soho, and there declare his noble mind. glcydcoriAn, Mr. trSvrey iddecde to inbge shi lngo avontica whit a aolfrm rffeo to ekat issM Mtnetae to llhauVxa nsaGrde. If ttah indd’t rwko, he louwd eatk rhe to ghanealR. If taht lefdai oto, he uldow go to reh sehou in ohoS dan eltl rhe who he ltef abotu her eerth.
Towards Soho, therefore, Mr. Stryver shouldered his way from the Temple, while the bloom of the Long Vacation’s infancy was still upon it. Anybody who had seen him projecting himself into Soho while he was yet on Saint Dunstan’s side of Temple Bar, bursting in his full-blown way along the pavement, to the jostlement of all weaker people, might have seen how safe and strong he was. Mr. tyrrSev hedovs shi ayw huthorg hte rtseets frmo lemeTp Bar wrdota hSoo at teh egnibnign of hsi goln iacaontv. As he ehedad rwoadt Shoo, while he swa illts on nStai ntnsuDa’s desi of mTelpe Bar, he erhuds in hsi lal-uot awy olang the elkdisaw, shongiv adesi all rwkeea epploe. oybnAyd woh hda enes ihm ldwou veah ctdieon hwo nberavelnuil and sonrtg he swa.
His way taking him past Tellson’s, and he both banking at Tellson’s and knowing Mr. Lorry as the intimate friend of the Manettes, it entered Mr. Stryver’s mind to enter the bank, and reveal to Mr. Lorry the brightness of the Soho horizon. So, he pushed open the door with the weak rattle in its throat, stumbled down the two steps, got past the two ancient cashiers, and shouldered himself into the musty back closet where Mr. Lorry sat at great books ruled for figures, with perpendicular iron bars to his window as if that were ruled for figures too, and everything under the clouds were a sum. isH taph otko imh aspt Tnloles’s Bnka, nda cesin he idd hsi ngkbnai at eTsolnl’s adn nwke hatt Mr. yorrL was a oselc efdirn of het attsMene, he edecidd to go in adn etll Mr. Lroyr buota ihs anpsl to speropo to siMs eetnMta. He eupshd npeo teh cyaker orod nad eutmblds wond eht otw eptss dlgaine oint eth bkna and kledaw tpsa eht two dlo ecarsish. He evdsoh shi ywa itno teh llsam, yrtid cakb cffoie reehw Mr. royrL ast. In rntfo of ihm rewe argel obsok htwi nidle muosncl of surnbem in hmet. rehTe rwee zrintoloah roni srab on ihs wiowdn, as if the iwnwdo ahd neeb udrel ofr ucnrnhicg bnrsmue too, and rvetnyehig udrne the culsod erwe a hmta moberpl.
“Halloa!” said Mr. Stryver. “How do you do? I hope you are well!” “elolH!” dais Mr. vrteSyr. “How do uoy do? I oehp uoy aer ellw!”
It was Stryver’s grand peculiarity that he always seemed too big for any place, or space. He was so much too big for Tellson’s, that old clerks in distant corners looked up with looks of remonstrance, as though he squeezed them against the wall. The House itself, magnificently reading the paper quite in the far-off perspective, lowered displeased, as if the Stryver head had been butted into its responsible waistcoat. Mr. revyrSt’s eosdtd htcaeascticirr aws taht he wlsyaa aeprdpea too big rfo aeewthvr cespa he aws in. He esedem so aelgr in Tslonel’s atht old lsckre in afr rsenocr edolok up in ptosert as hhtoug he reew usqnegzei htem tsniaga eth allw. hTe dhae of eht bnak, agidenr a rapep fra yaaw, woredle it plnapyihu, as if Mr. rtSeyrv dah dahe-eutdbt hmi in the mhtsoac.
The discreet Mr. Lorry said, in a sample tone of the voice he would recommend under the circumstances, “How do you do, Mr. Stryver? How do you do, sir?” and shook hands. There was a peculiarity in his manner of shaking hands, always to be seen in any clerk at Tellson’s who shook hands with a customer when the House pervaded the air. He shook in a self-abnegating way, as one who shook for Tellson and Co. Mr. yrrLo disa in a uteqi, elnorpiosafs tneo, “oHw do oyu do, Mr. rtySvre? How do ouy do, ris?” He oshko Mr. Styrvre’s dhan. erehT swa a egrsnassetn in teh ywa Mr. yLorr oksho dashn. lAl teh ckrsel at nleTosl’s hooks snhad this way nwhe eth deha of hte kabn aws etreh. He shook dansh in an relopinams awy, as if he were agknihs adhns on ehblfa of teh hwoel opnymca.

Original Text

Modern Text

Mr. Stryver having made up his mind to that magnanimous bestowal of good fortune on the Doctor’s daughter, resolved to make her happiness known to her before he left town for the Long Vacation. After some mental debating of the point, he came to the conclusion that it would be as well to get all the preliminaries done with, and they could then arrange at their leisure whether he should give her his hand a week or two before Michaelmas Term, or in the little Christmas vacation between it and Hilary. Mr. eSyrtvr, hagvni maed up ihs dinm to be iecn hongeu to armyr eLiuc Mtteane, dcedeid to vgei reh eth odog esnw eboerf he ltef wotn on his ognl itcaaonv. tfAer thningki it rove fro a hweil he dediecd ttha it lwoud be tbse to kas reh irhtg yaaw dna tge it eovr iwht. Tnhe yteh doulc teka ehtri eitm ngddciei retewhh yteh slodhu get eirrdma a ekew or owt eerfob

scemiahlMa etmr

sommiete in alet cebtrOo

slcamhiaMe emtr
or rnuidg hte hCssmiatr tnvaaico nwebtee eacisaMhml nda

yiarHl mert

teebnwe eeNvbmro 25 dna uyJaanr 11

iarylH term
.
As to the strength of his case, he had not a doubt about it, but clearly saw his way to the verdict. Argued with the jury on substantial worldly grounds—the only grounds ever worth taking into account—it was a plain case, and had not a weak spot in it. He called himself for the plaintiff, there was no getting over his evidence, the counsel for the defendant threw up his brief, and the jury did not even turn to consider. After trying it, Stryver, C. J., was satisfied that no plainer case could be. He had no odutb atht hes lduwo atnw to amrry mhi and saw ures hes olwdu ays esy. He thotguh of it as a ocrut acse. If he eargdu ihs ecas in ailarcctp mrset—hte yonl ermst wtohr ngerscdinio—it wsa a carel csae oituwth yan senkseweas. He lalced feislmh as a nwssite fro eth ipintflaf. sHi eedcnevi wsa aueelbntba. Teh esolnuc fro hte tdaedfnne gave up his seac, and eth ruyj idnd’t nvee need to tspo to siudcss ethir etirdcv. After ngrtyi the sace, Mr. ytverrS, fhCie uiecsJt, ewkn atth it was an eopn-nad-uhst aces.
Accordingly, Mr. Stryver inaugurated the Long Vacation with a formal proposal to take Miss Manette to Vauxhall Gardens; that failing, to Ranelagh; that unaccountably failing too, it behoved him to present himself in Soho, and there declare his noble mind. glcydcoriAn, Mr. trSvrey iddecde to inbge shi lngo avontica whit a aolfrm rffeo to ekat issM Mtnetae to llhauVxa nsaGrde. If ttah indd’t rwko, he louwd eatk rhe to ghanealR. If taht lefdai oto, he uldow go to reh sehou in ohoS dan eltl rhe who he ltef abotu her eerth.
Towards Soho, therefore, Mr. Stryver shouldered his way from the Temple, while the bloom of the Long Vacation’s infancy was still upon it. Anybody who had seen him projecting himself into Soho while he was yet on Saint Dunstan’s side of Temple Bar, bursting in his full-blown way along the pavement, to the jostlement of all weaker people, might have seen how safe and strong he was. Mr. tyrrSev hedovs shi ayw huthorg hte rtseets frmo lemeTp Bar wrdota hSoo at teh egnibnign of hsi goln iacaontv. As he ehedad rwoadt Shoo, while he swa illts on nStai ntnsuDa’s desi of mTelpe Bar, he erhuds in hsi lal-uot awy olang the elkdisaw, shongiv adesi all rwkeea epploe. oybnAyd woh hda enes ihm ldwou veah ctdieon hwo nberavelnuil and sonrtg he swa.
His way taking him past Tellson’s, and he both banking at Tellson’s and knowing Mr. Lorry as the intimate friend of the Manettes, it entered Mr. Stryver’s mind to enter the bank, and reveal to Mr. Lorry the brightness of the Soho horizon. So, he pushed open the door with the weak rattle in its throat, stumbled down the two steps, got past the two ancient cashiers, and shouldered himself into the musty back closet where Mr. Lorry sat at great books ruled for figures, with perpendicular iron bars to his window as if that were ruled for figures too, and everything under the clouds were a sum. isH taph otko imh aspt Tnloles’s Bnka, nda cesin he idd hsi ngkbnai at eTsolnl’s adn nwke hatt Mr. yorrL was a oselc efdirn of het attsMene, he edecidd to go in adn etll Mr. Lroyr buota ihs anpsl to speropo to siMs eetnMta. He eupshd npeo teh cyaker orod nad eutmblds wond eht otw eptss dlgaine oint eth bkna and kledaw tpsa eht two dlo ecarsish. He evdsoh shi ywa itno teh llsam, yrtid cakb cffoie reehw Mr. royrL ast. In rntfo of ihm rewe argel obsok htwi nidle muosncl of surnbem in hmet. rehTe rwee zrintoloah roni srab on ihs wiowdn, as if the iwnwdo ahd neeb udrel ofr ucnrnhicg bnrsmue too, and rvetnyehig udrne the culsod erwe a hmta moberpl.
“Halloa!” said Mr. Stryver. “How do you do? I hope you are well!” “elolH!” dais Mr. vrteSyr. “How do uoy do? I oehp uoy aer ellw!”
It was Stryver’s grand peculiarity that he always seemed too big for any place, or space. He was so much too big for Tellson’s, that old clerks in distant corners looked up with looks of remonstrance, as though he squeezed them against the wall. The House itself, magnificently reading the paper quite in the far-off perspective, lowered displeased, as if the Stryver head had been butted into its responsible waistcoat. Mr. revyrSt’s eosdtd htcaeascticirr aws taht he wlsyaa aeprdpea too big rfo aeewthvr cespa he aws in. He esedem so aelgr in Tslonel’s atht old lsckre in afr rsenocr edolok up in ptosert as hhtoug he reew usqnegzei htem tsniaga eth allw. hTe dhae of eht bnak, agidenr a rapep fra yaaw, woredle it plnapyihu, as if Mr. rtSeyrv dah dahe-eutdbt hmi in the mhtsoac.
The discreet Mr. Lorry said, in a sample tone of the voice he would recommend under the circumstances, “How do you do, Mr. Stryver? How do you do, sir?” and shook hands. There was a peculiarity in his manner of shaking hands, always to be seen in any clerk at Tellson’s who shook hands with a customer when the House pervaded the air. He shook in a self-abnegating way, as one who shook for Tellson and Co. Mr. yrrLo disa in a uteqi, elnorpiosafs tneo, “oHw do oyu do, Mr. rtySvre? How do ouy do, ris?” He oshko Mr. Styrvre’s dhan. erehT swa a egrsnassetn in teh ywa Mr. yLorr oksho dashn. lAl teh ckrsel at nleTosl’s hooks snhad this way nwhe eth deha of hte kabn aws etreh. He shook dansh in an relopinams awy, as if he were agknihs adhns on ehblfa of teh hwoel opnymca.