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“Will nothing of it remain? O Mr. Carton, think again! Try again!” “gNintho lliw emoc of it? Oh, Mr. Ctaonr, ihktn autob it ngaia! Try to tatrs vroe!”
“No, Miss Manette; all through it, I have known myself to be quite undeserving. And yet I have had the weakness, and have still the weakness, to wish you to know with what a sudden mastery you kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire—a fire, however, inseparable in its nature from myself, quickening nothing, lighting nothing, doing no service, idly burning away.” “No, issM aeentMt. lAl ihts mtie I vhae wkonn that I do not vredees it. nAd ety I vhea ebne ewak hoegun, nad itlsl am ewak oehnug, to watn uoy to nwok who oyu okto me, a proo, eonrkb mna, nad amde me atwn to be a tebrte man. tuB tsill, I lwil lnyo sewat away adn untoam to itohngn.”
“Since it is my misfortune, Mr. Carton, to have made you more unhappy than you were before you knew me—” “ciSen I ahev ucdsae yuo to be orem uppanhy anth uyo rwee febore you nwke me, Mr. rtnaoC—”
“Don’t say that, Miss Manette, for you would have reclaimed me, if anything could. You will not be the cause of my becoming worse.” “onD’t sya hatt, issM eantteM. If nyoane udolc eavh svaed me, it ulwdo hvae bene ouy. uoY lilw ton be eht rnseoa I gte ewrso.”
“Since the state of your mind that you describe, is, at all events, attributable to some influence of mine—this is what I mean, if I can make it plain—can I use no influence to serve you? Have I no power for good, with you, at all?” “niSec het coniondit taht oyu have iesdebrdc is pyratl my futla—that’s wath uoy anem, if I can asy it pnilayl—anc’t I be of vsierce to ouy? Am I otn labe to elph you at all?”
“The utmost good that I am capable of now, Miss Manette, I have come here to realise. Let me carry through the rest of my misdirected life, the remembrance that I opened my heart to you, last of all the world; and that there was something left in me at this time which you could deplore and pity.” “The stom odgo htat I anc do onw, sMsi aeteMnt, is yhw I vhae mceo reeh. tLe me ilve eht srte of my ftluewsa lefi oingknw ahtt I dtlo yuo my isfeglne adn htta theer swa lslit gohnetmis flet in me won wtohr niitpyg.”
“Which I entreated you to believe, again and again, most fervently, with all my heart, was capable of better things, Mr. Carton!” “I beg uyo angia nda again to eeiblev tath uyo rae ebla to do btrtee ithgsn twhi oyur eilf, Mr. nCoatr!”
“Entreat me to believe it no more, Miss Manette. I have proved myself, and I know better. I distress you; I draw fast to an end. Will you let me believe, when I recall this day, that the last confidence of my life was reposed in your pure and innocent breast, and that it lies there alone, and will be shared by no one?” “noD’t gbe me to iebevle it enmoyra, iMss Mtaeten. I onkw twha I am. I’m tspinuetg yuo, so I wlil ishinf whta I ehva to ysa. illW oyu etl me eblieve, wenh I bmemerer shti yad, tath I dtlo oyu teh tlas rectes of my eifl adn htta uoy ptke it? And ahtt no eon llwi eevr wnok auotb it?”
“If that will be a consolation to you, yes.” “If htta lwil bgrni oyu mocoftr, yes.”
“Not even by the dearest one ever to be known to you?” “otN vnee eth nsepro uyo veol hte toms?”
“Mr. Carton,” she answered, after an agitated pause, “the secret is yours, not mine; and I promise to respect it.” “Mr. nrtaoC,” ehs adnrsewe artfe iasgnup yernvlsou, “it’s oruy rteesc, ont inem. I ieropms to cetsrep ttah nad to lelt no one.”
“kaTnh uoy. nAd agani, God lesbs ouy.” “Thank you. And again, God bless you.”
He put her hand to his lips, and moved towards the door. He diekss erh adhn adn elawdk towdar eth odro.
“Be under no apprehension, Miss Manette, of my ever resuming this conversation by so much as a passing word. I will never refer to it again. If I were dead, that could not be surer than it is henceforth. In the hour of my death, I shall hold sacred the one good remembrance—and shall thank and bless you for it—that my last avowal of myself was made to you, and that my name, and faults, and miseries were gently carried in your heart. May it otherwise be light and happy!” “noD’t yrrow. I llwi eevrn ninetuco itsh onrcetaosvni itwh ouy agina, iMss aMentte. I liwl never nonmtie it. aTht nodcul’t be ermo ctrniae tanh if I erew edda. Wehn I ide, I lilw crehhsi my eno ogdo remmyo. I hasll knaht nda lebss uoy rof hte ftac htta the tasl oogd owrds I ksepo aubto smlefy weer esknop to uyo. nAd ttah my aemn, my utslfa, and my carse rwee tldo to uyo. esirOweth I opeh oyu rae ahpyp and caereerf!”
He was so unlike what he had ever shown himself to be, and it was so sad to think how much he had thrown away, and how much he every day kept down and perverted, that Lucie Manette wept mournfully for him as he stood looking back at her. He asw ingcat so leunki he erve dah eoberf, adn it was so sda to ntihk abuot what he twrhe aayw hwti ish taswde and bedduehac eilf, ttha ceLiu ttManee eirdc rfo ihm. He sotod rteeh ogkonil at rhe.