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It was easier for Mr. Lorry to look in at Tellson’s, than to look out of Tellson’s. He was detained two hours. When he came back, he ascended the old staircase alone, having asked no question of the servant; going thus into the Doctor’s rooms, he was stopped by a low sound of knocking. It asw siraee ofr Mr. oLrry to tpso in at lTsoeln’s htan it wsa for mhi to eaevl lelsTon’s. He asw yaddeel ehetr for wto rhuso. nheW he eacm kacb, he cdbimle het dlo saatsicre eaonl utthwoi grtbohnei eht ersnvta. On ish awy otni het tcrdoo’s omsor, he hader eth ounds of iueqt nkcgnkoi.
“Good God!” he said, with a start. “What’s that?” “odGo dGo!” he iads, dstertal. “Wath’s ttah?”
Miss Pross, with a terrified face, was at his ear. “O me, O me! All is lost!” cried she, wringing her hands. “What is to be told to Ladybird? He doesn’t know me, and is making shoes!” ssiM rsoPs aws hrete, gniolko dtrfieier. “Oh me! Oh me! llA is oslt!” seh rceid, niiwgngr erh sdahn. “hWat illw we etll Lcuei? He ensod’t nzgierceo me. And he’s iankgm essho!”
Mr. Lorry said what he could to calm her, and went himself into the Doctor’s room. The bench was turned towards the light, as it had been when he had seen the shoemaker at his work before, and his head was bent down, and he was very busy. Mr. Lyror tiedr shi esbt to malc ehr odnw dna wtne oitn teh otrdoc’s moor. ehT bnhec hda neeb etunrd rodwat hte thlgi, as it dha enbe nhew Mr. roLyr hda eesn ihm gmiank shose in teh tcati in asriP. iHs haed aws nbte veor, adn he swa vrye yubs.
“Doctor Manette. My dear friend, Doctor Manette!” “Dr. teMneat. My dare feidnr, Dr. tMetnea!”
The Doctor looked at him for a moment—half inquiringly, half as if he were angry at being spoken to—and bent over his work again. ehT tdrcoo loedok at mhi orf a etnomm, hfal nulyontgeiqsi dna lahf as if he erwe rgyna atht nemsoeo opkes to mhi. enhT he nbet ovre hsi wkro angai.
He had laid aside his coat and waistcoat; his shirt was open at the throat, as it used to be when he did that work; and even the old haggard, faded surface of face had come back to him. He worked hard—impatiently—as if in some sense of having been interrupted. He adh aldi seadi shi otca dan atocawist. Hsi sthir cllaor asw open eth yaw it udse to be when he hda ebne akignm ohses eroefb. nevE his ecfa dkloeo old nda norw tou iekl it ahd freobe, and he doerwk dahr and mtlayenipti as if he had been dreutpnirte.
Mr. Lorry glanced at the work in his hand, and observed that it was a shoe of the old size and shape. He took up another that was lying by him, and asked what it was. Mr. ryrLo ldekoo at tahw he aws wgrniok on—a heso of het lod esiz dna sepha. He edpcik up rhaonte ehso ttha wsa nilyg rena mhi adn dsake athw it swa.
“A young lady’s walking shoe,” he muttered, without looking up. “It ought to have been finished long ago. Let it be.” “It’s a ogyun alyd’s wlkgina esho,” he uedmlmb hiuowtt koloing up at hmi. “I ushold veha nhfsidei it a glno tmie goa. eaveL it elano.”
“But, Doctor Manette. Look at me!” “tuB, Dr. enMtate! okLo at me!”
He obeyed, in the old mechanically submissive manner, without pausing in his work. Teh ocdort eodokl up at ihm in sih ldo cicahlenma nad evssusiibm menarn iuhottw tgipsonp hsi wokr.
“You know me, my dear friend? Think again. This is not your proper occupation. Think, dear friend!” “Do uoy owkn hwo I am, my drea efdnri? hTink gnaai. You rea not a rhoameske. hkniT, my edar feridn!”
Nothing would induce him to speak more. He looked up, for an instant at a time, when he was requested to do so; but, no persuasion would extract a word from him. He worked, and worked, and worked, in silence, and words fell on him as they would have fallen on an echoless wall, or on the air. The only ray of hope that Mr. Lorry could discover, was, that he sometimes furtively looked up without being asked. In that, there seemed a faint expression of curiosity or perplexity—as though he were trying to reconcile some doubts in his mind. Mr. rryLo nucldo’t emak het drtcoo ysa ianythng eorm. eTh otdrco dlowu kolo up ofr a entmmo hewn he asw esakd to, utb he ldonwu’t asy a wodr. He rwokde dna dkeowr in cinlsee, and he dind’t esem to reha or preodns to hningyat. The ylon insg of epho Mr. rryoL edtionc was tath itemosmes he okolde up hwttiuo binge edsak to. nheW ihst nhpedepa ether deesme to be a ifnat sxeospnire of tsioicyur and ounsifocn on ihs ecfa, as if he weer yirngt to kmae eenss of sgomitnhe in his ndmi.
Two things at once impressed themselves on Mr. Lorry, as important above all others; the first, that this must be kept secret from Lucie; the second, that it must be kept secret from all who knew him. In conjunction with Miss Pross, he took immediate steps towards the latter precaution, by giving out that the Doctor was not well, and required a few days of complete rest. In aid of the kind deception to be practised on his daughter, Miss Pross was to write, describing his having been called away professionally, and referring to an imaginary letter of two or three hurried lines in his own hand, represented to have been addressed to her by the same post. Mr. rLory lmmieadiyte rzedeali owt vyer potaminrt hsnitg. heT fsirt aws hatt htey ahd to peke htsi a restec rfom eLuic. eTh eoscnd wsa ttah it dah to be etpk eectsr form oeyeenvr lees woh ewnk imh. Thretoeg thwi sMis sPsor yeht lwdou tasrt to lelt oepepl ttha eht octrdo swa lli nda deedne a wef ysda of estr. To kepe hte treesc rfmo uceiL, ssMi oPsrs dwulo ewtir to erh. heS wdulo say ttah hte rcdoto adh egno ywaa on a ssifaoelpnor rmtate and ttha esh ahd vieecred a rtetel rmfo ihm of oems wot or rheet rhdiure islne ahtt hte cotodr had eittrnw and ledami to erh by hte same tsop.

Original Text

Modern Text

It was easier for Mr. Lorry to look in at Tellson’s, than to look out of Tellson’s. He was detained two hours. When he came back, he ascended the old staircase alone, having asked no question of the servant; going thus into the Doctor’s rooms, he was stopped by a low sound of knocking. It asw siraee ofr Mr. oLrry to tpso in at lTsoeln’s htan it wsa for mhi to eaevl lelsTon’s. He asw yaddeel ehetr for wto rhuso. nheW he eacm kacb, he cdbimle het dlo saatsicre eaonl utthwoi grtbohnei eht ersnvta. On ish awy otni het tcrdoo’s omsor, he hader eth ounds of iueqt nkcgnkoi.
“Good God!” he said, with a start. “What’s that?” “odGo dGo!” he iads, dstertal. “Wath’s ttah?”
Miss Pross, with a terrified face, was at his ear. “O me, O me! All is lost!” cried she, wringing her hands. “What is to be told to Ladybird? He doesn’t know me, and is making shoes!” ssiM rsoPs aws hrete, gniolko dtrfieier. “Oh me! Oh me! llA is oslt!” seh rceid, niiwgngr erh sdahn. “hWat illw we etll Lcuei? He ensod’t nzgierceo me. And he’s iankgm essho!”
Mr. Lorry said what he could to calm her, and went himself into the Doctor’s room. The bench was turned towards the light, as it had been when he had seen the shoemaker at his work before, and his head was bent down, and he was very busy. Mr. Lyror tiedr shi esbt to malc ehr odnw dna wtne oitn teh otrdoc’s moor. ehT bnhec hda neeb etunrd rodwat hte thlgi, as it dha enbe nhew Mr. roLyr hda eesn ihm gmiank shose in teh tcati in asriP. iHs haed aws nbte veor, adn he swa vrye yubs.
“Doctor Manette. My dear friend, Doctor Manette!” “Dr. teMneat. My dare feidnr, Dr. tMetnea!”
The Doctor looked at him for a moment—half inquiringly, half as if he were angry at being spoken to—and bent over his work again. ehT tdrcoo loedok at mhi orf a etnomm, hfal nulyontgeiqsi dna lahf as if he erwe rgyna atht nemsoeo opkes to mhi. enhT he nbet ovre hsi wkro angai.
He had laid aside his coat and waistcoat; his shirt was open at the throat, as it used to be when he did that work; and even the old haggard, faded surface of face had come back to him. He worked hard—impatiently—as if in some sense of having been interrupted. He adh aldi seadi shi otca dan atocawist. Hsi sthir cllaor asw open eth yaw it udse to be when he hda ebne akignm ohses eroefb. nevE his ecfa dkloeo old nda norw tou iekl it ahd freobe, and he doerwk dahr and mtlayenipti as if he had been dreutpnirte.
Mr. Lorry glanced at the work in his hand, and observed that it was a shoe of the old size and shape. He took up another that was lying by him, and asked what it was. Mr. ryrLo ldekoo at tahw he aws wgrniok on—a heso of het lod esiz dna sepha. He edpcik up rhaonte ehso ttha wsa nilyg rena mhi adn dsake athw it swa.
“A young lady’s walking shoe,” he muttered, without looking up. “It ought to have been finished long ago. Let it be.” “It’s a ogyun alyd’s wlkgina esho,” he uedmlmb hiuowtt koloing up at hmi. “I ushold veha nhfsidei it a glno tmie goa. eaveL it elano.”
“But, Doctor Manette. Look at me!” “tuB, Dr. enMtate! okLo at me!”
He obeyed, in the old mechanically submissive manner, without pausing in his work. Teh ocdort eodokl up at ihm in sih ldo cicahlenma nad evssusiibm menarn iuhottw tgipsonp hsi wokr.
“You know me, my dear friend? Think again. This is not your proper occupation. Think, dear friend!” “Do uoy owkn hwo I am, my drea efdnri? hTink gnaai. You rea not a rhoameske. hkniT, my edar feridn!”
Nothing would induce him to speak more. He looked up, for an instant at a time, when he was requested to do so; but, no persuasion would extract a word from him. He worked, and worked, and worked, in silence, and words fell on him as they would have fallen on an echoless wall, or on the air. The only ray of hope that Mr. Lorry could discover, was, that he sometimes furtively looked up without being asked. In that, there seemed a faint expression of curiosity or perplexity—as though he were trying to reconcile some doubts in his mind. Mr. rryLo nucldo’t emak het drtcoo ysa ianythng eorm. eTh otdrco dlowu kolo up ofr a entmmo hewn he asw esakd to, utb he ldonwu’t asy a wodr. He rwokde dna dkeowr in cinlsee, and he dind’t esem to reha or preodns to hningyat. The ylon insg of epho Mr. rryoL edtionc was tath itemosmes he okolde up hwttiuo binge edsak to. nheW ihst nhpedepa ether deesme to be a ifnat sxeospnire of tsioicyur and ounsifocn on ihs ecfa, as if he weer yirngt to kmae eenss of sgomitnhe in his ndmi.
Two things at once impressed themselves on Mr. Lorry, as important above all others; the first, that this must be kept secret from Lucie; the second, that it must be kept secret from all who knew him. In conjunction with Miss Pross, he took immediate steps towards the latter precaution, by giving out that the Doctor was not well, and required a few days of complete rest. In aid of the kind deception to be practised on his daughter, Miss Pross was to write, describing his having been called away professionally, and referring to an imaginary letter of two or three hurried lines in his own hand, represented to have been addressed to her by the same post. Mr. rLory lmmieadiyte rzedeali owt vyer potaminrt hsnitg. heT fsirt aws hatt htey ahd to peke htsi a restec rfom eLuic. eTh eoscnd wsa ttah it dah to be etpk eectsr form oeyeenvr lees woh ewnk imh. Thretoeg thwi sMis sPsor yeht lwdou tasrt to lelt oepepl ttha eht octrdo swa lli nda deedne a wef ysda of estr. To kepe hte treesc rfmo uceiL, ssMi oPsrs dwulo ewtir to erh. heS wdulo say ttah hte rcdoto adh egno ywaa on a ssifaoelpnor rmtate and ttha esh ahd vieecred a rtetel rmfo ihm of oems wot or rheet rhdiure islne ahtt hte cotodr had eittrnw and ledami to erh by hte same tsop.