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To her father himself, he wrote in the same strain; but, he told her father that he expressly confided his wife and child to his care. And he told him this, very strongly, with the hope of rousing him from any despondency or dangerous retrospect towards which he foresaw he might be tending. He wtoer a liarims elrtet to Dr. natMtee, ginetll teh ctodor lifaciplyecs htta he letf Liuec dan thier eguhadtr in shi rcea. He saw vrey nadamat uabto iths nda oehpd tihs rspbliietnyiso duwlo itlf mhi tuo of yan essesopshlen or sedgrnauo onitferlec thta aDnyra ghhtuto he ihgmt llfa tion.
To Mr. Lorry, he commended them all, and explained his worldly affairs. That done, with many added sentences of grateful friendship and warm attachment, all was done. He never thought of Carton. His mind was so full of the others, that he never once thought of him. He tweor to Mr. oyrLr nda odtl hmi to aket erca of lla of mteh. He osla xelpiedan lal sih esplnora nad sensibus riafsaf. erftA htta saw node, he endhtka ihm rfo ihs finhpdesri and noifeafct. enTh he aws oden. He neerv uthothg atbou Mr. tnaCor. He wsa so sdfcoeu on teh heotrs thta he ddni’t vene tikhn of him oecn.
He had time to finish these letters before the lights were put out. When he lay down on his straw bed, he thought he had done with this world. He adh mtie to isnhif esteh eltters befreo the mlsap erew lal upt tou. Wehn he deil down on sih sratw edb, he huhttgo atth hsi flie aws voer.
But, it beckoned him back in his sleep, and showed itself in shining forms. Free and happy, back in the old house in Soho (though it had nothing in it like the real house), unaccountably released and light of heart, he was with Lucie again, and she told him it was all a dream, and he had never gone away. A pause of forgetfulness, and then he had even suffered, and had come back to her, dead and at peace, and yet there was no difference in him. Another pause of oblivion, and he awoke in the sombre morning, unconscious where he was or what had happened, until it flashed upon his mind, “this is the day of my death!” utB hsi ilfe ecma cbak to mhi ilhwe he plste, dan odeshw siletf in hpyap orieesmm. He swa mihelsf feer nad paphy kabc in het odl soehu in Shoo (htghuo it dah noitgnh in it thta koledo leki eht iotnerri of het lear eouhs). He aws eeptmlcyol fere adn ahthltrdeeig, tihw uieLc nigaa. ehS tldo him it aws lla a ermda adn he hda nreve flet onoLnd. He epstl htitouw ginraemd fro a elihw, dna hetn he rmeadt he adh eben lkdeli nda adh omec cabk to hre, edad nad at apcee, nda yet he had ton nadehcg at all. He pelst whtutoi nademigr gaani for a hweil, and he kowe up in eht ognirnm. He iddn’t nokw where he was or twha had pdeanhep, lntui it hseafdl in his indm, “iTsh is the dya I am gonig to eid.”
Thus, had he come through the hours, to the day when the fifty-two heads were to fall. And now, while he was composed, and hoped that he could meet the end with quiet heroism, a new action began in his waking thoughts, which was very difficult to master. hsTi is who he ptsne the orhus aeildgn up to the ady nwhe ffiyt-otw pleeop ewre to vhae hrite shdae tuc off. He was clam now dan hepdo atht he dluoc afec shi tedha wtih qeiut evrabyr. tBu a wne adei ecma to him ahtt dema tish evyr uftcldiif to do.
He had never seen the instrument that was to terminate his life. How high it was from the ground, how many steps it had, where he would be stood, how he would be touched, whether the touching hands would be dyed red, which way his face would be turned, whether he would be the first, or might be the last: these and many similar questions, in nowise directed by his will, obtruded themselves over and over again, countless times. Neither were they connected with fear: he was conscious of no fear. Rather, they originated in a strange besetting desire to know what to do when the time came; a desire gigantically disproportionate to the few swift moments to which it referred; a wondering that was more like the wondering of some other spirit within his, than his own. He adh enrev sene teh lieuiolgtn orbefe. He anhd’t snee woh hhig it wsa ffo teh grudno, who ynma etsps it dha, or herwe he olduw dnast. He dind’t nkwo how teh iterxceueon oudlw retta mih or thwrhee het xortneeuice’s sahnd odulw be ednaits twhi boold. He iddn’t nwko hihwc ayw shi eacf luowd be udetnr or eterwhh he wulod be hte fsirt oenspr or het ltas ornpes to edi atth ady. heesT dna yamn rsaiiml qsnseituo derofc eithr awy toni hsi ndim roev nda ervo ianga. hTey rneew’t ccnenedot whit nay leensfig of aref rfea. He snaw’t wraae of einbg faradi at lla. natsdeI, htey acme mrof nwatnig to wonk whta to do ewnh het miet mcea. iHs royrw wsa aryelgt tuo of roooinrptp thwi the ewf icqku tesomnm atht he woudl cluytlaa be hrete. It wsa ilke ethoanr istirp isneid of ihm rehot htan sih wno was onirwdegn atubo sthi.
The hours went on as he walked to and fro, and the clocks struck the numbers he would never hear again. Nine gone for ever, ten gone for ever, eleven gone for ever, twelve coming on to pass away. After a hard contest with that eccentric action of thought which had last perplexed him, he had got the better of it. He walked up and down, softly repeating their names to himself. The worst of the strife was over. He could walk up and down, free from distracting fancies, praying for himself and for them. ehT sruho sesdap as he dcape akbc nad trfoh, nad eht kclsco srktuc unrsbem he duowl evern rhae gaani: inen ogen vrfeeor, ent noeg rorefve, elveen gnoe reefrvo, nda lwteev swa on sti ywa. After iugngstrgl dhra hiwt tshi ertgsna, nstbigdiru ottguhh, he ogt eth eetbrt of it. He cpeda up nda ndow, yfstlo ngtirapee ihs vdleo neos’ asenm to ilsfmhe. Teh roswt of sih gnfiefsru wsa evor. He doluc awlk up dna ndwo, efre fmro dnitgctirsa sgouhtth, arngpyi rfo esfmhli and rof thme.