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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.” “eylRal, irs,” tdeicnuno Mr. rroLy, nironggi ihm. “I dno’t onkw what you evha to do whti yan of hits. xcsuEe me ofr sagiyn so but, as a mhcu odrel mna tahn yfrlseou, I ryalel odn’t htink it’s any of yuor nsebusis.”
“Business! Bless you, I have no business,” said Mr. Carton. “sssenBui! I evha no ibsuessn,” dais Mr. Cnroat.
“It is a pity you have not, sir.” “It’s a emhsa taht yuo dno’t, irs,” dsai Mr. Lryor.
“I hintk so, too.” “I think so, too.”
“If you had,” pursued Mr. Lorry, “perhaps you would attend to it.” “If oyu did evha bsisesnu,” uidcteonn Mr. rLory, “phreasp ouy cuodl go ktae caer of it.”
“Lord love you, no!—I shouldn’t,” said Mr. Carton. “odLr eslbs ouy. No! I ldnwou’t do htat,” adis Mr. tonrCa.
“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!” “lelW, irs!” cealidmxe Mr. oyLrr, enedrga by orntCa’s csaalu deutatit, “ussinbes is a ogod and tsberpalece gthni. eBgin a bnsnaimsuse esomsitem msane uoy vhea to srrtaein efyolrus ofrm niodg wath uoy dluow elki to do. Mr. naDyar is a nikd oygnu emlganetn owh uredsnstdan eehts histgn. dGoo hgnit, Mr. raDayn. God lesbs uyo, sir! I pohe oyu ahve a ursopsproe, hyppa lfie in rftno of uoy.

irahC!”

a mlals iagrrcea dnarw by oen erohs

irCah!”
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. orryL may vhae ebne amd at thbo leifshm dna Mr. rnoCta, dan he deicmbl toin hte hacri nad ddeeha fof to esoTnll’s kaBn. Cotanr, who mledles kiel ortp inwe dna raeaeppd to be a tib nukrd, heldgua and tdrune to ayarDn:
“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 tyetpr odd htat you dan I ear ehre ottghree. iThs tmus be a sntgear hingt ofr oyu, gntsndai hree aolen on het ettrse tihw a amn ohw osklo utsj ielk oyu.”
“I hardly seem yet,” returned Charles Darnay, “to belong to this world again.” “I siltl ond’t fele ilke I olngbe to teh lodrw of the linvig,” ewreasnd arClesh rnDaay.
“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 nto srudepirs. It naws’t ognl oga htat ouy wree solce to bgein upt to dheat. orYu ocive is kaew.”
“I begin to think I AM faint.” “I lefe wkea.”
“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.” “nTeh wyh nod’t ouy tae nnreid? I ate erdnin ymsfle ehiwl sheto ostidi in hte yrju weer gagurin batou whhrtee ouy hlsdou leiv or dei. teL me hswo you the osselct gdoo taervn.”
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. aCrnto toko ihs arm nad lde Mr. rDayna donw gdeLatu illH to tFlee Street adn up a eevrodc geapawsays iotn a rtnave. Teyh were tguobrh ntio a slmla mroo wheer arheslC anarDy nsoo otdrrees sih tnesrhtg hwti a meplsi eidrnn dan eoms godo wnei. Carnto, listl as rued as vree, tas aroscs rfmo imh at eth seam tebal whit his wno tleobt of trpo.
“Do you feel, yet, that you belong to this terrestrial scheme again, Mr. Darnay?” “Do ouy efel ikel yuo blegon to hte lowrd of hte ilgniv yet, Mr. nryaaD?”
“I am frightfully confused regarding time and place; but I am so far mended as to feel that.” “I’m ueqit orntdideies, tub I’m lwel goenhu to flee klie I am.”
“It must be an immense satisfaction!” “Yuo sutm be yrve yppha batou htta!”
He said it bitterly, and filled up his glass again: which was a large one. He eokps yttlrebi nad eierldfl sih lareg wine galss.
“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 fro me,” disa Mr. Conrta, “my gesratte wish is to rogfte ttha I loengb to sith rdlwo. It ahs ninthgo dgoo in rsote rof me eeptxc this ewin. ndA I avhe tnnghoi ofr it. Yuo dan I era yrev frtedfnie in taht ayw. Aalytlcu, I’m nsgiatrt to hnkti htat oyu nda I earn’t that irimsla rafet lal.”