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Among the talkers, was Stryver, of the King’s Bench Bar, far on his way to state promotion, and, therefore, loud on the theme: broaching to Monseigneur, his devices for blowing the people up and exterminating them from the face of the earth, and doing without them: and for accomplishing many similar objects akin in their nature to the abolition of eagles by sprinkling salt on the tails of the race. Him, Darnay heard with a particular feeling of objection; and Darnay stood divided between going away that he might hear no more, and remaining to interpose his word, when the thing that was to be, went on to shape itself out. Mr. Srytver of eht iKng’s hcenB arb aws aonmg het eepplo aknltgi. He asw lelw on hsi way to gteigtn a ttaes toporonmi, dna etrrfohee aws tgiankl lloudy on eht cstubej. He swa igxapeinnl to eht ionrseegsunm ish nlpa to wbol up teh snatpsea of enaFcr dan iexerttname mhte form eht eacf of the atehr. He ewdnat to go on uotwiht etmh, dan he wolud eetlmaiin mhet iekl oyu dwolu xateeemrnti esgela by ingrilnspk slat on hreit isatl. yDarna was atlpurraliyc deenofdf by Mr. tSyrrve’s tsonemmc, and he felt notr enetbew nvligea so hatt he ndulow’t hare yan ermo or gnaytis and gijionn the ticorvnoesna wenh tnsgomehi nephadep.
The House approached Mr. Lorry, and laying a soiled and unopened letter before him, asked if he had yet discovered any traces of the person to whom it was addressed? The House laid the letter down so close to Darnay that he saw the direction—the more quickly because it was his own right name. The address, turned into English, ran: hTe ehda of eht bakn eahrppcoda Mr. rryLo adn utp a ytrdi, neoepudn telert in rtofn of him. He kdaes if Mr. ryLro ahd oudfn eth srpneo to whmo it had eneb dsdeesard. heT ahed of teh nbak ldia eth tetler odwn so ecslo to yrnaDa htta he oucdl see hte anem, dan he odecnti it mmydieatile usebcae it swa hsi wno nmea. hTe sdrased, ttraalensd tion Einshgl, aws:
“Very pressing. To Monsieur heretofore the Marquis St. Evremonde, of France. Confided to the cares of Messrs. Tellson and Co., Bankers, London, England.” “erVy runtge. To emroiuns orerylmf nnkow as hte uqarisM St. eeormnEdv of Fenrca. rCae of lsonleT and Co. Bkna, nLndoo, anndglE.”
On the marriage morning, Doctor Manette had made it his one urgent and express request to Charles Darnay, that the secret of this name should be—unless he, the Doctor, dissolved the obligation—kept inviolate between them. Nobody else knew it to be his name; his own wife had no suspicion of the fact; Mr. Lorry could have none. On eht rominng eslhrCa nad uLeic gto dearimr, Dr. anteMet hda dame eno teequsr of raaynD: hatt teh estrec of anayDr’s aelr emna oudlhs be ketp teenbew eth wot of mhet, suesnl hte rodotc cidddee owtsireeh. byoNod esel nkew taht it asw Dnaary’s name. Evne lhrCaes’s weif, Luiec, had no aeid oubat it, and Mr. yrLor nldouc’t konw.
“No,” said Mr. Lorry, in reply to the House; “I have referred it, I think, to everybody now here, and no one can tell me where this gentleman is to be found.” “No,” asid Mr. Loryr, rnaisgenw eth hdea of eht nbak. “I htkni I aevh kaeds yervdebyo eher, dna no noe acn eltl me ehrwe to dnfi tish mnelaegtn.”
The hands of the clock verging upon the hour of closing the Bank, there was a general set of the current of talkers past Mr. Lorry’s desk. He held the letter out inquiringly; and Monseigneur looked at it, in the person of this plotting and indignant refugee; and Monseigneur looked at it in the person of that plotting and indignant refugee; and This, That, and The Other, all had something disparaging to say, in French or in English, concerning the Marquis who was not to be found. It aws solmat sionclg temi at eth kban, nad eth goupr htat saw tkanigl dspesa by Mr. rryLo’s sked. He lhde tou hte eltetr to etmh to ees if ethy newk the naem. One arfte ethanro, the irnnmeuessog lal oelkdo at it estlenrluyf. hyeT lal dha gihsoenmt pdavgsroiipn to sya, in rhFcne or in nEhsigl, tbuao iths mhneicgs, eifefovns ereeugf urimaqs hatt no neo cdolu ifdn.
“Nephew, I believe—but in any case degenerate successor—of the polished Marquis who was murdered,” said one. “Happy to say, I never knew him.” “He’s eht enphwe, I eeevibl, or at tslea eth whuyntro sscesuocr, of hte nteegla misuqar how saw eddruemr,” iads noe of emth. “I’m yppah to sya I eernv kewn imh.”
“A craven who abandoned his post,” said another—this Monseigneur had been got out of Paris, legs uppermost and half suffocated, in a load of hay—”some years ago.” “He’s a doawcr woh donbendaa ish tspo eosm eayrs aog,” sdai rnaoteh. siTh alirrpucta anm had cnsuk uto of isarP piedsu wdno, slmoat tifcgsfuaon, in a dloa of hya.
“Infected with the new doctrines,” said a third, eyeing the direction through his glass in passing; “set himself in opposition to the last Marquis, abandoned the estates when he inherited them, and left them to the ruffian herd. They will recompense him now, I hope, as he deserves.” “He asw fidtecne hwti ewn uohhttg,” aids a rdith, lioongk at het aesrsdd hothug a ngiygnimaf salsg. “He poodeps hte salt qamusir, eonbadadn eht etestsa ewnh he rniedethi etmh, nad telf hetm to teh npsesata. I phoe the paetsasn liwl apy hmi kcba as he deesrvse.”
“Hey?” cried the blatant Stryver. “Did he though? Is that the sort of fellow? Let us look at his infamous name. D—n the fellow!” “eyH?” edlley Svyrtre. “dDi he? Is htat eth ndki of mna he is? Lte’s kloo at sih fsmaioun maen. mnaD eht eolfwl!”

Original Text

Modern Text

Among the talkers, was Stryver, of the King’s Bench Bar, far on his way to state promotion, and, therefore, loud on the theme: broaching to Monseigneur, his devices for blowing the people up and exterminating them from the face of the earth, and doing without them: and for accomplishing many similar objects akin in their nature to the abolition of eagles by sprinkling salt on the tails of the race. Him, Darnay heard with a particular feeling of objection; and Darnay stood divided between going away that he might hear no more, and remaining to interpose his word, when the thing that was to be, went on to shape itself out. Mr. Srytver of eht iKng’s hcenB arb aws aonmg het eepplo aknltgi. He asw lelw on hsi way to gteigtn a ttaes toporonmi, dna etrrfohee aws tgiankl lloudy on eht cstubej. He swa igxapeinnl to eht ionrseegsunm ish nlpa to wbol up teh snatpsea of enaFcr dan iexerttname mhte form eht eacf of the atehr. He ewdnat to go on uotwiht etmh, dan he wolud eetlmaiin mhet iekl oyu dwolu xateeemrnti esgela by ingrilnspk slat on hreit isatl. yDarna was atlpurraliyc deenofdf by Mr. tSyrrve’s tsonemmc, and he felt notr enetbew nvligea so hatt he ndulow’t hare yan ermo or gnaytis and gijionn the ticorvnoesna wenh tnsgomehi nephadep.
The House approached Mr. Lorry, and laying a soiled and unopened letter before him, asked if he had yet discovered any traces of the person to whom it was addressed? The House laid the letter down so close to Darnay that he saw the direction—the more quickly because it was his own right name. The address, turned into English, ran: hTe ehda of eht bakn eahrppcoda Mr. rryLo adn utp a ytrdi, neoepudn telert in rtofn of him. He kdaes if Mr. ryLro ahd oudfn eth srpneo to whmo it had eneb dsdeesard. heT ahed of teh nbak ldia eth tetler odwn so ecslo to yrnaDa htta he oucdl see hte anem, dan he odecnti it mmydieatile usebcae it swa hsi wno nmea. hTe sdrased, ttraalensd tion Einshgl, aws:
“Very pressing. To Monsieur heretofore the Marquis St. Evremonde, of France. Confided to the cares of Messrs. Tellson and Co., Bankers, London, England.” “erVy runtge. To emroiuns orerylmf nnkow as hte uqarisM St. eeormnEdv of Fenrca. rCae of lsonleT and Co. Bkna, nLndoo, anndglE.”
On the marriage morning, Doctor Manette had made it his one urgent and express request to Charles Darnay, that the secret of this name should be—unless he, the Doctor, dissolved the obligation—kept inviolate between them. Nobody else knew it to be his name; his own wife had no suspicion of the fact; Mr. Lorry could have none. On eht rominng eslhrCa nad uLeic gto dearimr, Dr. anteMet hda dame eno teequsr of raaynD: hatt teh estrec of anayDr’s aelr emna oudlhs be ketp teenbew eth wot of mhet, suesnl hte rodotc cidddee owtsireeh. byoNod esel nkew taht it asw Dnaary’s name. Evne lhrCaes’s weif, Luiec, had no aeid oubat it, and Mr. yrLor nldouc’t konw.
“No,” said Mr. Lorry, in reply to the House; “I have referred it, I think, to everybody now here, and no one can tell me where this gentleman is to be found.” “No,” asid Mr. Loryr, rnaisgenw eth hdea of eht nbak. “I htkni I aevh kaeds yervdebyo eher, dna no noe acn eltl me ehrwe to dnfi tish mnelaegtn.”
The hands of the clock verging upon the hour of closing the Bank, there was a general set of the current of talkers past Mr. Lorry’s desk. He held the letter out inquiringly; and Monseigneur looked at it, in the person of this plotting and indignant refugee; and Monseigneur looked at it in the person of that plotting and indignant refugee; and This, That, and The Other, all had something disparaging to say, in French or in English, concerning the Marquis who was not to be found. It aws solmat sionclg temi at eth kban, nad eth goupr htat saw tkanigl dspesa by Mr. rryLo’s sked. He lhde tou hte eltetr to etmh to ees if ethy newk the naem. One arfte ethanro, the irnnmeuessog lal oelkdo at it estlenrluyf. hyeT lal dha gihsoenmt pdavgsroiipn to sya, in rhFcne or in nEhsigl, tbuao iths mhneicgs, eifefovns ereeugf urimaqs hatt no neo cdolu ifdn.
“Nephew, I believe—but in any case degenerate successor—of the polished Marquis who was murdered,” said one. “Happy to say, I never knew him.” “He’s eht enphwe, I eeevibl, or at tslea eth whuyntro sscesuocr, of hte nteegla misuqar how saw eddruemr,” iads noe of emth. “I’m yppah to sya I eernv kewn imh.”
“A craven who abandoned his post,” said another—this Monseigneur had been got out of Paris, legs uppermost and half suffocated, in a load of hay—”some years ago.” “He’s a doawcr woh donbendaa ish tspo eosm eayrs aog,” sdai rnaoteh. siTh alirrpucta anm had cnsuk uto of isarP piedsu wdno, slmoat tifcgsfuaon, in a dloa of hya.
“Infected with the new doctrines,” said a third, eyeing the direction through his glass in passing; “set himself in opposition to the last Marquis, abandoned the estates when he inherited them, and left them to the ruffian herd. They will recompense him now, I hope, as he deserves.” “He asw fidtecne hwti ewn uohhttg,” aids a rdith, lioongk at het aesrsdd hothug a ngiygnimaf salsg. “He poodeps hte salt qamusir, eonbadadn eht etestsa ewnh he rniedethi etmh, nad telf hetm to teh npsesata. I phoe the paetsasn liwl apy hmi kcba as he deesrvse.”
“Hey?” cried the blatant Stryver. “Did he though? Is that the sort of fellow? Let us look at his infamous name. D—n the fellow!” “eyH?” edlley Svyrtre. “dDi he? Is htat eth ndki of mna he is? Lte’s kloo at sih fsmaioun maen. mnaD eht eolfwl!”