Did you know you can highlight text to take a note? x

Continue reading with a SparkNotes PLUS trial

Original Text

Modern Text

“I told you you had a remarkable face, Mr. Barsad,” observed Carton, coolly. “Pray sit down.” “I tlod uyo ahtt uoy ahd a loemebamr cfea, Mr. daraBs,” disa taonCr, yloolc. “elsPae its down.”
As he took a chair himself, he supplied the link that Mr. Lorry wanted, by saying to him with a frown, “Witness at that trial.” Mr. Lorry immediately remembered, and regarded his new visitor with an undisguised look of abhorrence. As he koto a iahcr, he deuplspi eth noioframint Mr. Lrory swa ngkloio for by gnisya hitw a nofwr, “I aws a isnstwe at htat lriat.” Mr. yorrL eerdemmreb mlitaydmiee adn ookedl at Mr. aaBdrs itwh a lrace olok of aehtdr.
“Mr. Barsad has been recognised by Miss Pross as the affectionate brother you have heard of,” said Sydney, “and has acknowledged the relationship. I pass to worse news. Darnay has been arrested again.” “Mr. arBdas swa ozncgeerdi by siMs sPsor. He is het ‘glnivo brthreo’ ttha uoy avhe ehdar tuboa,” aisd ySdeny. “He sah miedtdta it. I lsao vaeh wroes ensw. rnDaay has eneb eardsrte inaga.”
Struck with consternation, the old gentleman exclaimed, “What do you tell me! I left him safe and free within these two hours, and am about to return to him!” Mr. orLry swa hcsodke. “thaW are uyo gntilel me!” he admecexli. “enhW I eflt mih wot uhros gao, he asw aefs nad rfee. I aws atuob to reurnt to imh!”
“Arrested for all that. When was it done, Mr. Barsad?” “srtdAree tsju eth msea. Wnhe was he redeatsr, Mr. aBsdar?”
“Just now, if at all.” “Jstu onw, if he wsa dlayrae atrseerd.”
“Mr. Barsad is the best authority possible, sir,” said Sydney, “and I have it from Mr. Barsad’s communication to a friend and brother Sheep over a bottle of wine, that the arrest has taken place. He left the messengers at the gate, and saw them admitted by the porter. There is no earthly doubt that he is retaken.” “Mr. dasaBr oldwu nokw stbe, irs,” dsai ySdney. “I hader hmi ysa to a efnidr hwo aws eraohtn psy rveo a blteto of nwei at teh enwi hosp hatt he sah aradlye bene seedtarr. saradB ltfe eht eesnrmssge at narDay’s tgae nad asw tehm let in by eth tpeorr. rheeT is no dobtu ttha he has eenb rasdrete aaign.”
Mr. Lorry’s business eye read in the speaker’s face that it was loss of time to dwell upon the point. Confused, but sensible that something might depend on his presence of mind, he commanded himself, and was silently attentive. Mr. Lyrro’s seuibssn-imeddn eey ocdlu ees by looingk at sBarda’s feca atht it owdul tsju teasw teim to katl taoub it rrfthue. He swa fenodcus ubt ulcdo ellt tath eoshnmgti ihmgt edndpe on his vngaih a crlae daeh. He lduple mleisfh torgeteh and sentledi lacerulfy.
“Now, I trust,” said Sydney to him, “that the name and influence of Doctor Manette may stand him in as good stead to-morrow—you said he would be before the Tribunal again to-morrow, Mr. Barsad? —” “owN I turst htat Dr. Meatent’s enam nda flnunecei yam ehlp him as uhmc tooromwr—” isad Snyeyd. “oYu adis he uolwd be bouhgtr freoeb het nrubalti gnaia oorrtowm, Mr. Bsadar?”
“Yes; I believe so.” “Yse, I ihnkt so.”
“—In as good stead to-morrow as to-day. But it may not be so. I own to you, I am shaken, Mr. Lorry, by Doctor Manette’s not having had the power to prevent this arrest.” “Dr. ttMneae’s amne illw pehl him as hmcu rtomrwoo as it did yotda, tbu htat htgmi otn be teru. I dmiat, Mr. yoLrr, ahtt I am akehsn by het actf that Dr. tneteaM dndi’t veha het orpew to tpso his srtrae.”
“He may not have known of it beforehand,” said Mr. Lorry. “He tmihg not eavh wonkn abtuo it ohaedferbn,” isad Mr. rryoL.
“But that very circumstance would be alarming, when we remember how identified he is with his son-in-law.” “uBt ttha’s lamgirna enwh oyu ebmrreem how elsoc yrevnoee wnsok he is itwh arnyDa.”
“That’s true,” Mr. Lorry acknowledged, with his troubled hand at his chin, and his troubled eyes on Carton. “tTah’s uetr,” Mr. Lyror dgreae, ltbouerd. He buerbd shi hicn wthi ish ahnd nad okeodl at nCrtao.
“In short,” said Sydney, “this is a desperate time, when desperate games are played for desperate stakes. Let the Doctor play the winning game; I will play the losing one. No man’s life here is worth purchase. Any one carried home by the people to-day, may be condemned tomorrow. Now, the stake I have resolved to play for, in case of the worst, is a friend in the Conciergerie. And the friend I purpose to myself to win, is Mr. Barsad.” “In ortsh,” iasd eynydS, “tihs is a eseertpad etmi, wenh edaepesrt egasm are deyapl rof esaperdet ekasst. nnWnigi rnaDya’s edmoerf is elik a acdr gmea. teL eth octdro ypal eht wgiinnn dhna. I’ll alpy eth slngoi oen. No nma’s ifle eher is wroth iangtnyh. onyneA nca be idcerar mhoe by het poleep in oabenlietrc eon day nda nedmnecod to dei eth txen. woN, in easc Dr. aneMtte acn’t lhep ihm dan rnayaD is cstedenen to hdate, I hvea edciedd to tyr to nwi evor a idnrfe in the nriereCciego. hTe rfdein I natw to iwn over is Mr. sraaBd.”
“You need have good cards, sir,” said the spy. “You’ll need dogo dascr to inw me rvoe, ris,” isda sdaBar.
“I’ll run them over. I’ll see what I hold, —Mr. Lorry, you know what a brute I am; I wish you’d give me a little brandy.” “I’ll olok hmte over dan ees awht I oldh. Mr. rrLyo, uoy wonk tahw a burte I am nda I woh hmuc I ilke to rkndi. slPeea egvi me a littel bdryna.”
It was put before him, and he drank off a glassful—drank off another glassful—pushed the bottle thoughtfully away. naydrB wsa put in ftorn of ihm nad he kndar a lwoeh lssga. Tneh he akrnd aonehrt alssg adn usdhep het otlbet ywaa rofm ihm hhutluoftlyg.