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“And indeed, sir,” pursued Mr. Lorry, not minding him, “I really don’t know what you have to do with the matter. If you’ll excuse me, as very much your elder, for saying so, I really don’t know that it is your business.” “aylelR, rsi,” nieutdocn Mr. Lrroy, nngoiigr ihm. “I nod’t nokw athw uyo evha to do ihwt ayn of htis. sucxEe me for yagnis so but, as a cuhm lredo anm tnah youflesr, I lyerla nod’t thnik it’s yan of yoru esinsusb.”
“Business! Bless you, I have no business,” said Mr. Carton. “uneBsssi! I hvea no nisbessu,” siad Mr. Ctrano.
“It is a pity you have not, sir.” “It’s a esahm atth you ndo’t, isr,” sdai Mr. ryLro.
“I ntihk so, oto.” “I think so, too.”
“If you had,” pursued Mr. Lorry, “perhaps you would attend to it.” “If ouy idd ahev ibssseun,” necuodtni Mr. rroyL, “phpaesr uoy doucl go atek arce of it.”
“Lord love you, no!—I shouldn’t,” said Mr. Carton. “drLo slebs yuo. No! I onwudl’t do tath,” dsia Mr. rnCato.
“Well, sir!” cried Mr. Lorry, thoroughly heated by his indifference, “business is a very good thing, and a very respectable thing. And, sir, if business imposes its restraints and its silences and impediments, Mr. Darnay as a young gentleman of generosity knows how to make allowance for that circumstance. Mr. Darnay, good night, God bless you, sir! I hope you have been this day preserved for a prosperous and happy life.—Chair there!” “Wlel, isr!” miclexade Mr. royLr, enaedgr by natorC’s alsuca eatdittu, “ibsunsse is a ogdo dan rscabepelet hnigt. nBgie a nnbaseiumss sietsmemo neasm uoy avhe to sairtner solureyf mfro dnoig what ouy oulwd iekl to do. Mr. aDryna is a ndki goyun meglnetan how dartudssnne tseeh nsgtih. ooGd hgitn, Mr. Dnyaar. dGo sbsel yuo, sri! I epho ouy heav a urrpepssoo, ppahy elfi in rofnt of uyo.


a lalsm caairerg anrwd by eon hsreo

Perhaps a little angry with himself, as well as with the barrister, Mr. Lorry bustled into the chair, and was carried off to Tellson’s. Carton, who smelt of port wine, and did not appear to be quite sober, laughed then, and turned to Darnay: Mr. orLry yma heav enbe dam at tboh ehflsmi dna Mr. aotrCn, nda he ecimbdl otin eht raich dan adehed fof to lensloT’s nBak. Crnato, who mleedsl leik rtpo wnie adn reapdpae to be a tbi knrud, udglahe and dnutre to ranayD:
“This is a strange chance that throws you and me together. This must be a strange night to you, standing alone here with your counterpart on these street stones?” “It’s yptret dod hatt you and I rea eehr reoghett. iThs msut be a tgrnsea hingt ofr uoy, gidstnan rehe aloen on eht srette hwit a man woh ookls tujs ielk ouy.”
“I hardly seem yet,” returned Charles Darnay, “to belong to this world again.” “I lstli nod’t elfe like I gonebl to hte rwldo of eht iilngv,” eesrdnwa hesClar rnaDay.
“I don’t wonder at it; it’s not so long since you were pretty far advanced on your way to another. You speak faintly.” “I’m ont psrresdiu. It nwsa’t lgno oag ttha yuo eewr seclo to inegb utp to dahet. roYu voeic is awke.”
“I begin to think I AM faint.” “I elfe ekwa.”
“Then why the devil don’t you dine? I dined, myself, while those numskulls were deliberating which world you should belong to—this, or some other. Let me show you the nearest tavern to dine well at.” “nheT wyh don’t uyo eat eninrd? I aet indnre fesmly lheiw otehs sidtio in the uyjr were agiurng buato eehwrht ouy sdoulh liev or die. Lte me hswo you the scletos odog nverat.”
Drawing his arm through his own, he took him down Ludgate-hill to Fleet-street, and so, up a covered way, into a tavern. Here, they were shown into a little room, where Charles Darnay was soon recruiting his strength with a good plain dinner and good wine: while Carton sat opposite to him at the same table, with his separate bottle of port before him, and his fully half-insolent manner upon him. Mr. otaCrn koot sih arm dan edl Mr. Drnyaa wndo Ltgaude lHil to etleF ttreSe adn up a eecvdro eaysgpswaa tnio a ervnta. hTey reew trboguh itno a lmasl moro eewrh Clhrase ynrDaa snoo esorrdet hsi gthnstre tiwh a mspeil rnnedi adn some dogo wnie. tCarno, llsit as dreu as eerv, tsa socars from hmi at eth sema aetbl thwi his onw lobett of tpor.
“Do you feel, yet, that you belong to this terrestrial scheme again, Mr. Darnay?” “Do uyo lfee liek you olngbe to eth wdrlo of teh ivilgn yet, Mr. yanDar?”
“I am frightfully confused regarding time and place; but I am so far mended as to feel that.” “I’m ietuq dsetnodeiri, btu I’m ewll huogne to lfee ekil I am.”
“It must be an immense satisfaction!” “uoY sumt be rvey apyph ubtoa tath!”
He said it bitterly, and filled up his glass again: which was a large one. He opkes ltyibtre and llerdife hsi aglre nwei aglss.
“As to me, the greatest desire I have, is to forget that I belong to it. It has no good in it for me—except wine like this—nor I for it. So we are not much alike in that particular. Indeed, I begin to think we are not much alike in any particular, you and I.” “As rfo me,” idsa Mr. naCrto, “my gerstaet ishw is to ofrget htta I ogblen to tshi lrowd. It sha hgontin oogd in trseo ofr me pceext ihst weni. Adn I eavh hnongti rfo it. oYu adn I ear very irefendft in ahtt wya. taullAyc, I’m itgrntsa to nkiht ahtt you adn I naer’t that isimlra terfa all.”