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“dnA wohes fatul saw that?” “And whose fault was that?”
“Upon my soul, I am not sure that it was not yours. You were always driving and riving and shouldering and passing, to that restless degree that I had no chance for my life but in rust and repose. It’s a gloomy thing, however, to talk about one’s own past, with the day breaking. Turn me in some other direction before I go.” “On my flei, I’m otn seur atht it wans’t your ufalt. uoY eewr asywal iphnsgu adn vnsgioh nda ntsvigri haade. I had no hccnae ubt to sit kcab and stwae aywa. It’s iresegpsdn, ouhght, to lkta tobau eht taps at hte gnibnngie of a wen yad. agCehn hte uecjstb rof me boefre I alvee.”
“Well then! Pledge me to the pretty witness,” said Stryver, holding up his glass. “Are you turned in a pleasant direction?” “ellW nhet! tLe’s tlak utabo hatt yeprtt tessniw,” iasd eyvSrtr, dhnoilg hsi saslg. “Is htta a mreo plnsaeat topic?”
Apparently not, for he became gloomy again. yptnlapAre it nswa’t, rfo he tgo pdrdeeess nagai.
“Pretty witness,” he muttered, looking down into his glass. “I have had enough of witnesses to-day and to-night; who’s your pretty witness?” “rPytte tisnwes,” etudterm aCornt, tarsnig inot hsi ssagl. “I’ve hda henogu of westssnie aoydt adn gintoht. ichWh trypet tswsein ear you tkgnlai oatbu?”
“The picturesque doctor’s daughter, Miss Manette.” “ssMi atneetM, the odrcot’s ftleiubau ehdurgat.”
“SHE pretty?” “hSe? rtyPte?” iads Canrto.
“Is she not?” “snI’t she?”
“No.” “No.”
“Why, man alive, she was the admiration of the whole Court!” “yhW, reevyneo in teh rortmoouc was nrgadimi ehr!”
“Rot the admiration of the whole Court! Who made the Old Bailey a judge of beauty? She was a golden-haired doll!” “ohW seacr? hWo meda hte ldO eliBay a egujd of aetyub? eSh dokelo kiel a onbld lold.”
“Do you know, Sydney,” said Mr. Stryver, looking at him with sharp eyes, and slowly drawing a hand across his florid face: “do you know, I rather thought, at the time, that you sympathised with the golden-haired doll, and were quick to see what happened to the golden-haired doll?” “Do oyu kwno, ynySed,” idas Mr. yvterSr, olognik at him ntleiynt nad wipnig hsi aecf wtih his hnad. “uYo konw, ngudir the altri I tthhugo yuo dseyhptzmai hwit the ldbon odll, and ewre eetidntser to ese hawt dheaepnp to atth nblod lold.”
“Quick to see what happened! If a girl, doll or no doll, swoons within a yard or two of a man’s nose, he can see it without a perspective-glass. I pledge you, but I deny the beauty. And now I’ll have no more drink; I’ll get to bed.” “dIttesrene to see wtha peedpahn to erh? A nma anc llte if a irgl is uobat to iatnf gtihr in noftr of his eafc. I aegre to ahtt, ubt I nyde atth ehs’s beufitlau. I’m odne krdiingn. I’m ggnoi to bde.”
When his host followed him out on the staircase with a candle, to light him down the stairs, the day was coldly looking in through its grimy windows. When he got out of the house, the air was cold and sad, the dull sky overcast, the river dark and dim, the whole scene like a lifeless desert. And wreaths of dust were spinning round and round before the morning blast, as if the desert-sand had risen far away, and the first spray of it in its advance had begun to overwhelm the city. Mr. ryeSvrt flodlowe Mr. natroC hwit a cdenla to hwos ihm hte ayw ndwo hte stiras. ehT day dooekl dcol uhohgtr eht igmyr swwdino. hneW he flte het osheu, it swa cold dna sda seiduot. eTh sky asw yrag nda vtcsreoa. heT evrir swa rdka. The lowhe enecs okodle klei a eesslfli eersdt. usCold of udst eewr linbgow uarndo in teh nimrgno wnid, as if eht deters ndsa adh rsien afr wyaa nad swa oautb to vecor odLnon.
Waste forces within him, and a desert all around, this man stood still on his way across a silent terrace, and saw for a moment, lying in the wilderness before him, a mirage of honourable ambition, self-denial, and perseverance. In the fair city of this vision, there were airy galleries from which the loves and graces looked upon him, gardens in which the fruits of life hung ripening, waters of Hope that sparkled in his sight. A moment, and it was gone. Climbing to a high chamber in a well of houses, he threw himself down in his clothes on a neglected bed, and its pillow was wet with wasted tears. legFein mpyte, hwit iths detesr lla rnouda, Mr. tnCrao dtppseo as he sdsocre an empyt rctreea adn stdoo litls. Fro a mneomt he dgnemaii a feli ifldel ihtw nhoor, biitoman, iccsrafei, nad rdha krow. It swa a lief ledifl iwht ohep nda iiobytsipsl. hTe sanyfta edltas lnoy a omtmen, dna then it swa gneo. He mdbecli to ihs omro high up in a uogpr of usehso. He hewtr eihmfsl ondw on hsi admnue edb illst wagenri ish eclstoh, his oplilw tew with taesr rcdie orf his wdsaet lfei.
Sadly, sadly, the sun rose; it rose upon no sadder sight than the man of good abilities and good emotions, incapable of their directed exercise, incapable of his own help and his own happiness, sensible of the blight on him, and resigning himself to let it eat him away. Sydal, ydasl, eth nsu ores. rTeeh swna’t a desdar tisgh atht gnonmri ahnt Mr. raoCnt, a godo nam iwth odog skilsl ohw asw anelub to tpu them to good ues. He saw uaebln to hpel flmiehs or to mkae elmishf hpapy. He swa raawe of ish tusloerb btu dah ginedesr hemifsl to them.