Original Text
|
Modern Text
|
|
“Now, my dear Manette,” said Mr. Lorry, at length, in his most considerate and
most affectionate way, “I am a mere man of business, and unfit to cope with such
intricate and difficult matters. I do not possess the kind of information
necessary; I do not possess the kind of intelligence; I want guiding. There is
no man in this world on whom I could so rely for right guidance, as on you. Tell
me, how does this relapse come about? Is there danger of another? Could a
repetition of it be prevented? How should a repetition of it be treated? How
does it come about at all? What can I do for my friend? No man ever can have
been more desirous in his heart to serve a friend, than I am to serve mine, if I
knew how.
|
“Now, my dear Dr. Manette,” said Mr. Lorry after a little while and in his
most compassionate way. “I am just a businessman. I am not fit to deal with such
complicated matters. I don’t have the necessary information or intelligence, and
I need help. There is no man in the world that I could rely on for help more
than you. Tell me, how does this relapse happen? Is it possible there will be
another? Is there a way to stop it from happening again? If it does happen
again, what should we do? How does it happen at all? What can I do to help my
friend? There is no man that could want to help his friend more than I want to
help mine, if I only knew how.”
|
|
“But I don’t know how to originate, in such a case. If your sagacity,
knowledge, and experience, could put me on the right track, I might be able to
do so much; unenlightened and undirected, I can do so little. Pray discuss it
with me; pray enable me to see it a little more clearly, and teach me how to be
a little more useful.”
|
“But I don’t know how to begin in such a case,” continued Mr. Lorry. “If your
wisdom, knowledge, and experience could put me on the right track, I might be
able to do a lot. But uninformed and without help, I can’t do much of anything.
Please talk with me about it. Please help me understand it better and teach me
how to be of more help.”
|
|
Doctor Manette sat meditating after these earnest words were spoken, and Mr.
Lorry did not press him.
|
Dr. Manette sat thinking over these sincere words, and Mr. Lorry did not
pressure him.
|
|
“I think it probable,” said the Doctor, breaking silence with an effort, “that
the relapse you have described, my dear friend, was not quite unforeseen by its
subject.”
|
“I think it’s likely that the patient may have expected the relapse you have
described,” said the doctor, requiring an effort to break the silence.
|
|
“Was it dreaded by him?” Mr. Lorry ventured to ask.
|
“Was he afraid it might happen again?” Mr. Lorry asked.
|
|
“Very much.” He said it with an involuntary shudder.
|
“Very much.” He said it with an involuntary shudder.
|
|
“You have no idea how such an apprehension weighs on the sufferer’s mind, and
how difficult—how almost impossible—it is, for him to force himself to utter a
word upon the topic that oppresses him.”
|
“You have no idea how troublesome such a fear is to a person, and how
difficult—how almost impossible—it is for him to make himself talk about the
subject that haunts him.”
|
|
“Would he,” asked Mr. Lorry, “be sensibly relieved if he could prevail upon
himself to impart that secret brooding to any one, when it is on him?”
|
“Would it help him,” asked Mr. Lorry, “if he could tell someone else that
secret when it is bothering him?”
|
|
“I think so. But it is, as I have told you, next to impossible. I even believe
it—in some cases—to be quite impossible.”
|
“I think so. But it is, as I have told you, almost impossible. I even think
that, in some cases, it is impossible.”
|
|
“Now,” said Mr. Lorry, gently laying his hand on the Doctor’s arm again, after
a short silence on both sides, “to what would you refer this attack?”
|
“Now,” said Mr. Lorry, gently laying his hand on the doctor’s arm again. After
a short silence he said, “Why do you think this attack happened?”
|
|
“I believe,” returned Doctor Manette, “that there had been a strong and
extraordinary revival of the train of thought and remembrance that was the first
cause of the malady. Some intense associations of a most distressing nature were
vividly recalled, I think. It is probable that there had long been a dread
lurking in his mind, that those associations would be recalled—say, under
certain circumstances—say, on a particular occasion. He tried to prepare himself
in vain; perhaps the effort to prepare himself made him less able to bear
it.”
|
“I believe,” answered Dr. Manette, “that something caused him to start
thinking about the things that first caused the sickness. He recalled some
strong, intense memories. It’s likely that, for a long time, there had been a
dread in the back of his mind that those memories might come back to him, under
certain circumstances, for instance, or on a particular occasion. He tried to
prepare himself for it, but it was no use. It’s possible that trying to prepare
himself for it made it worse.”
|
|
“Would he remember what took place in the relapse?” asked Mr. Lorry, with
natural hesitation.
|
“Would he remember what happened during the relapse?” asked Mr. Lorry
hesitantly.
|
|
The Doctor looked desolately round the room, shook his head, and answered, in
a low voice, “Not at all.”
|
The doctor looked around the room sadly, shook his head, and answered quietly,
“Not at all.”
|
