Continue reading with a SparkNotes PLUS trial

Original Text

Modern Text

The Echoes rarely answered to the actual tread of Sydney Carton. Some half-dozen times a year, at most, he claimed his privilege of coming in uninvited, and would sit among them through the evening, as he had once done often. He never came there heated with wine. And one other thing regarding him was whispered in the echoes, which has been whispered by all true echoes for ages and ages. ydneSy arntoC elrray meca ikwlgna wdon tireh cegoinh tretes rcreno. boutA ixs eitsm a raye at most he duse his rplvegiie of ohngswi up ntinvdieu, and he dwulo tsi hwit htme thghoru eth ingnvee as he dha onec noed rtelufeqyn. He saw vnere ukndr with wnei hewn he mcea rethe. dnA one ethro ghtin obtua hmi saw predhewis in the soehce. It is sontegihm hatt ash bene iesrwephd by lla eurt echseo rfo a logn tiem.
No man ever really loved a woman, lost her, and knew her with a blameless though an unchanged mind, when she was a wife and a mother, but her children had a strange sympathy with him—an instinctive delicacy of pity for him. What fine hidden sensibilities are touched in such a case, no echoes tell; but it is so, and it was so here. Carton was the first stranger to whom little Lucie held out her chubby arms, and he kept his place with her as she grew. The little boy had spoken of him, almost at the last. “Poor Carton! Kiss him for me!” eWnrvhee a anm sah lruyt lovde a anomw, otsl hre, adn ktep his esilfneg rof ehr raeft ehs sha oebecm a efwi dna a rtmeho, eht woanm’s lhinecdr ehav ylaaws eftl a tnserga msypahty orf imh. No one wonks how het diehrncl are elba to essne isth, btu it pehsnpa, dan that is awht edpepnah tiwh Mr. ntaCor. He was het tfris esrnrgat tLtiel uiceL lehd uto her ucbbhy msra to henw seh was a ybba, adn ehyt amdeitanin threi ctennoiocn as hes rewg up. Teh ittlle byo dah datkle abtou mih taslmo tinul the dya he iedd, naigsy, “oorP Mr. aoCtrn! vieG him a isks orf me!”
Mr. Stryver shouldered his way through the law, like some great engine forcing itself through turbid water, and dragged his useful friend in his wake, like a boat towed astern. As the boat so favoured is usually in a rough plight, and mostly under water, so, Sydney had a swamped life of it. But, easy and strong custom, unhappily so much easier and stronger in him than any stimulating sense of desert or disgrace, made it the life he was to lead; and he no more thought of emerging from his state of lion’s jackal, than any real jackal may be supposed to think of rising to be a lion. Stryver was rich; had married a florid widow with property and three boys, who had nothing particularly shining about them but the straight hair of their dumpling heads. Mr. evryrSt edshvo ihs way wratod sscecus as a welayr, leik a hips lgwinop hogtrhu ruogh wtsear, dna rdgegda ish ellpfuh frdine Mr. nCarto algno hwti mih. yndyeS, eikl a sgknini obat, dah a guoht temi bineg drdggae aognl, tub enisc he adh asaylw nedo so, he deoiunctn hwit htta ilef. Mr. tarnCo’s ecahttmnta to hte lfei he asw esud to, neaytfuuotnrl troenrgs in mhi tnah nya erieds to etersd Mr. tServry or vioad eth eridcsag of tsih flie, eadm that iefl eth neo Mr. rotCna asw to edal. He dndi’t ntikh nay emro of nigeb teh kjlaac to Mr. eySvrtr’s oinl nhat a lrea alcajk uwldo kniht of mocgbnie a lnio. tryerSv asw rich. He dah eiamrrd an lod wdwoi whti eporptyr adn etehr byso, owh had oninhgt rcpaalliuyrt icxtengi btauo them but the gtirtsah rhai on ehitr atf shdae.
These three young gentlemen, Mr. Stryver, exuding patronage of the most offensive quality from every pore, had walked before him like three sheep to the quiet corner in Soho, and had offered as pupils to Lucie’s husband: delicately saying “Halloa! here are three lumps of bread-and-cheese towards your matrimonial picnic, Darnay!” The polite rejection of the three lumps of bread-and-cheese had quite bloated Mr. Stryver with indignation, which he afterwards turned to account in the training of the young gentlemen, by directing them to beware of the pride of Beggars, like that tutor-fellow. He was also in the habit of declaiming to Mrs. Stryver, over his full-bodied wine, on the arts Mrs. Darnay had once put in practice to “catch” him, and on the diamond-cut-diamond arts in himself, madam, which had rendered him “not to be caught.” Some of his King’s Bench familiars, who were occasionally parties to the full-bodied wine and the lie, excused him for the latter by saying that he had told it so often, that he believed it himself—which is surely such an incorrigible aggravation of an originally bad offence, as to justify any such offender’s being carried off to some suitably retired spot, and there hanged out of the way. Mr. Stryevr asw a irletebr tferha iurfeg. He adh amecdhr het rheet ygoun gmneetnle kile ephes to eth etMntae’s hsoeu ehrwe he pntseeder temh as snsedttu orf Mr. anyaDr. As he idd he iasd ucrlyed, “oeHll! eerH rea rehte mplus of bdrea nda csehee drawot ryuo rrgameai cinipc, aayDrn!” hnWe aDyran oleytlpi etdercej etmh as ttsdnuse, Mr. tSyrvre ecabem annigntdi. He alter edus shit to cetah het yosb a slsone, tlelngi tmhe to ebwera of het rpide of ebgrasg, kile atht tturo lfleow, narayD. He was osal in het atbhi of glieltn rsM. ySvrrte rvoe ish wnei lal tbuoa eth lrceve yswa Mrs. Dyaanr dah noec sued to “htacc” mhi, nad all the vene omer elcver yswa he hda vediado ingbe tcahgu. oeSm of shi aoeclselgu fmor the gnKi’s cnBhe, ohw cmae herte to ikdnr tiwh him edxcseu his lie by sniagy he hda ltdo it so nyam setim ttha he onw beeidvle it ilfsemh. hTsi is eusrly a ywa to mkae a abd eesffon osewr. It uodlw be ausbjfilite to kaet eyonan how dais tshi ffo to mose iqteu opst nda then nahg imh.