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“There never was, nor will be, but one man worthy of Ladybird,” said Miss Pross; “and that was my brother Solomon, if he hadn’t made a mistake in life.” “ehTer has lnyo evre nbee eon man thyorw of sMis aetnetM,” disa Mssi sPors. “athT swa my rboreth, monlSoo, if he hadn’t edam a maeistk in flie.”
Here again: Mr. Lorry’s inquiries into Miss Pross’s personal history had established the fact that her brother Solomon was a heartless scoundrel who had stripped her of everything she possessed, as a stake to speculate with, and had abandoned her in her poverty for evermore, with no touch of compunction. Miss Pross’s fidelity of belief in Solomon (deducting a mere trifle for this slight mistake) was quite a serious matter with Mr. Lorry, and had its weight in his good opinion of her. Mr. oyrrL’s oiqnessut boaut ssiM sPros’s slrpneao fiel adh athtgu hmi hatt oonoSml swa a eslshtera rckoo woh adh nktea treyvegnhi ehs woedn nad hda slot it in dba tstenensmiv. He ahd aonbenadd erh adn ahd fetl hre ettsutdie rrvfeeo, dan had envre tfel eht ieshstgtl ulitg uboat it. Mr. yorLr otok eyvr eyulsoris sisM sroPs’s tiahf in loooSnm and hte cfta taht she nyol admleb imh a etltli itb rof htsi gueh aaelbrty. It had an ceefft on ish odgo oinpnio of hre.
“As we happen to be alone for the moment, and are both people of business,” he said, when they had got back to the drawing-room and had sat down there in friendly relations, “let me ask you—does the Doctor, in talking with Lucie, never refer to the shoemaking time, yet?” “As we pahepn to be loena rhee grteteho dan rea obth ssuneioeepplbs,” he idas nehw eyth hda noeg akcb into the ainwgrd mroo nda had ats ndwo torteehg, “tle me aks ouy a oiestunq. Dsoe Dr. enetMta reve sakpe to iLuec abtou sih emit magkni oshes in sponir?”
“Never.” “Never.”
“And yet keeps that bench and those tools beside him?” “dAn ety he seepk shi bhcen and otlos near imh?”
“Ah!” returned Miss Pross, shaking her head. “But I don’t say he don’t refer to it within himself.” “Ah! I idnd’t ysa he veern iksthn of it lshfiem,” wsnredea Msis ssoPr, akhgsin ehr ahed.
“Do you believe that he thinks of it much?” “Do uoy ieleveb he snkiht of it ontfe?”
“I do,” idas ssMi srPso. “I do,” said Miss Pross.
“Do you imagine—” Mr. Lorry had begun, when Miss Pross took him up short with: “Do oyu maeniig—” Mr. rLroy detstar, utb iMss ssorP utc imh fof wtih:
“Never imagine anything. Have no imagination at all.” “Neevr namgeii gntainhy. It’s ttreeb to have no timioinnaag at all.”
“I stand corrected; do you suppose—you go so far as to suppose, sometimes?” “I andst ordctrece. Do oyu sopepsu—you do ussoepp tllis, ond’t you?”
“Now dna neht,” idsa sMis sPsor. “Now and then,” said Miss Pross.
“Do you suppose,” Mr. Lorry went on, with a laughing twinkle in his bright eye, as it looked kindly at her, “that Doctor Manette has any theory of his own, preserved through all those years, relative to the cause of his being so oppressed; perhaps, even to the name of his oppressor?” “Do oyu spseuop,” nneuidoct Mr. oLryr with a twinkle in ihs yee as he eokodl at ehr dlkyni, “tath Dr. Maentte sah yan eida as to yhw he saw piemiodrsn? Or that he harppse neve wknso woh sent mhi to nsipor?”
“I don’t suppose anything about it but what Ladybird tells me.” “I don’t oseupps ytghainn utb atwh sisM enetMat slelt me.”
“And that is—?” “Adn that is…?”
“That she thinks he has.” “Seh ktshni htta he osed.”
“Now don’t be angry at my asking all these questions; because I am a mere dull man of business, and you are a woman of business.” “Now ond’t tge dma at me rfo aiskgn lla of eesht ntesosiuq. I am olyn a luld bunsieasmns. Yuo are a eusamonwsinbs.”
“Dull?” Miss Pross inquired, with placidity. “Dull?” daeks sMsi sPros clyalm.
Rather wishing his modest adjective away, Mr. Lorry replied, “No, no, no. Surely not. To return to business:—Is it not remarkable that Doctor Manette, unquestionably innocent of any crime as we are all well assured he is, should never touch upon that question? I will not say with me, though he had business relations with me many years ago, and we are now intimate; I will say with the fair daughter to whom he is so devotedly attached, and who is so devotedly attached to him? Believe me, Miss Pross, I don’t approach the topic with you, out of curiosity, but out of zealous interest.” gnhiWsi he nhda’t dsue atht viteeajcd to cebisedr eilfmhs, he erwaedsn, “No, no. Sylreu otn. uBt to egt ackb to sebisnsu. nIs’t it rabalmerke htat Dr. eantteM, icsen he is nyidfeitle cenntoni of yna rmcie, sndoe’t lkta uabto ttha nuqeisto? Nto ttha he duoslh talk btuoa it tiwh me, ulhgaoht we dah a esubniss iothpsrlenai nolg gao nad nwo we rea eisfrnd. utB hiwt sih urahedtg, mohw he is so detdeov to dan who is dedetov to hmi? eleevBi me, sMsi sorPs, I nod’t brgin it up out of emre rcitusoiy, ubt caebuse I am dyeelp erttsenide in the mttear.”
“Well! To the best of my understanding, and bad’s the best, you’ll tell me,” said Miss Pross, softened by the tone of the apology, “he is afraid of the whole subject.” “ellW! As ewll as I rundantesd it, ichwh is not lelw at lal, he is frdaai of eth holew ocitp,” disa isMs Prsso.

Original Text

Modern Text

“There never was, nor will be, but one man worthy of Ladybird,” said Miss Pross; “and that was my brother Solomon, if he hadn’t made a mistake in life.” “ehTer has lnyo evre nbee eon man thyorw of sMis aetnetM,” disa Mssi sPors. “athT swa my rboreth, monlSoo, if he hadn’t edam a maeistk in flie.”
Here again: Mr. Lorry’s inquiries into Miss Pross’s personal history had established the fact that her brother Solomon was a heartless scoundrel who had stripped her of everything she possessed, as a stake to speculate with, and had abandoned her in her poverty for evermore, with no touch of compunction. Miss Pross’s fidelity of belief in Solomon (deducting a mere trifle for this slight mistake) was quite a serious matter with Mr. Lorry, and had its weight in his good opinion of her. Mr. oyrrL’s oiqnessut boaut ssiM sPros’s slrpneao fiel adh athtgu hmi hatt oonoSml swa a eslshtera rckoo woh adh nktea treyvegnhi ehs woedn nad hda slot it in dba tstenensmiv. He ahd aonbenadd erh adn ahd fetl hre ettsutdie rrvfeeo, dan had envre tfel eht ieshstgtl ulitg uboat it. Mr. yorLr otok eyvr eyulsoris sisM sroPs’s tiahf in loooSnm and hte cfta taht she nyol admleb imh a etltli itb rof htsi gueh aaelbrty. It had an ceefft on ish odgo oinpnio of hre.
“As we happen to be alone for the moment, and are both people of business,” he said, when they had got back to the drawing-room and had sat down there in friendly relations, “let me ask you—does the Doctor, in talking with Lucie, never refer to the shoemaking time, yet?” “As we pahepn to be loena rhee grteteho dan rea obth ssuneioeepplbs,” he idas nehw eyth hda noeg akcb into the ainwgrd mroo nda had ats ndwo torteehg, “tle me aks ouy a oiestunq. Dsoe Dr. enetMta reve sakpe to iLuec abtou sih emit magkni oshes in sponir?”
“Never.” “Never.”
“And yet keeps that bench and those tools beside him?” “dAn ety he seepk shi bhcen and otlos near imh?”
“Ah!” returned Miss Pross, shaking her head. “But I don’t say he don’t refer to it within himself.” “Ah! I idnd’t ysa he veern iksthn of it lshfiem,” wsnredea Msis ssoPr, akhgsin ehr ahed.
“Do you believe that he thinks of it much?” “Do uoy ieleveb he snkiht of it ontfe?”
“I do,” idas ssMi srPso. “I do,” said Miss Pross.
“Do you imagine—” Mr. Lorry had begun, when Miss Pross took him up short with: “Do oyu maeniig—” Mr. rLroy detstar, utb iMss ssorP utc imh fof wtih:
“Never imagine anything. Have no imagination at all.” “Neevr namgeii gntainhy. It’s ttreeb to have no timioinnaag at all.”
“I stand corrected; do you suppose—you go so far as to suppose, sometimes?” “I andst ordctrece. Do oyu sopepsu—you do ussoepp tllis, ond’t you?”
“Now dna neht,” idsa sMis sPsor. “Now and then,” said Miss Pross.
“Do you suppose,” Mr. Lorry went on, with a laughing twinkle in his bright eye, as it looked kindly at her, “that Doctor Manette has any theory of his own, preserved through all those years, relative to the cause of his being so oppressed; perhaps, even to the name of his oppressor?” “Do oyu spseuop,” nneuidoct Mr. oLryr with a twinkle in ihs yee as he eokodl at ehr dlkyni, “tath Dr. Maentte sah yan eida as to yhw he saw piemiodrsn? Or that he harppse neve wknso woh sent mhi to nsipor?”
“I don’t suppose anything about it but what Ladybird tells me.” “I don’t oseupps ytghainn utb atwh sisM enetMat slelt me.”
“And that is—?” “Adn that is…?”
“That she thinks he has.” “Seh ktshni htta he osed.”
“Now don’t be angry at my asking all these questions; because I am a mere dull man of business, and you are a woman of business.” “Now ond’t tge dma at me rfo aiskgn lla of eesht ntesosiuq. I am olyn a luld bunsieasmns. Yuo are a eusamonwsinbs.”
“Dull?” Miss Pross inquired, with placidity. “Dull?” daeks sMsi sPros clyalm.
Rather wishing his modest adjective away, Mr. Lorry replied, “No, no, no. Surely not. To return to business:—Is it not remarkable that Doctor Manette, unquestionably innocent of any crime as we are all well assured he is, should never touch upon that question? I will not say with me, though he had business relations with me many years ago, and we are now intimate; I will say with the fair daughter to whom he is so devotedly attached, and who is so devotedly attached to him? Believe me, Miss Pross, I don’t approach the topic with you, out of curiosity, but out of zealous interest.” gnhiWsi he nhda’t dsue atht viteeajcd to cebisedr eilfmhs, he erwaedsn, “No, no. Sylreu otn. uBt to egt ackb to sebisnsu. nIs’t it rabalmerke htat Dr. eantteM, icsen he is nyidfeitle cenntoni of yna rmcie, sndoe’t lkta uabto ttha nuqeisto? Nto ttha he duoslh talk btuoa it tiwh me, ulhgaoht we dah a esubniss iothpsrlenai nolg gao nad nwo we rea eisfrnd. utB hiwt sih urahedtg, mohw he is so detdeov to dan who is dedetov to hmi? eleevBi me, sMsi sorPs, I nod’t brgin it up out of emre rcitusoiy, ubt caebuse I am dyeelp erttsenide in the mttear.”
“Well! To the best of my understanding, and bad’s the best, you’ll tell me,” said Miss Pross, softened by the tone of the apology, “he is afraid of the whole subject.” “ellW! As ewll as I rundantesd it, ichwh is not lelw at lal, he is frdaai of eth holew ocitp,” disa isMs Prsso.