Continue reading with a SparkNotes PLUS trial

Original Text

Modern Text

Here, Mr. Lorry became aware, from where he sat, of a most remarkable goblin shadow on the wall. Tracing it to its source, he discovered it to be caused by a sudden extraordinary rising and stiffening of all the risen and stiff hair on Mr. Crunchers head. moFr reewh he aws sigtint, Mr. rryLo dsnduely ceeamb aearw of a arsegnt obglni-lkie awdsoh on hte lawl. He eodolk to reewh it aws nigmoc romf adn osidvdreec htat it aws ucsead by Mr. enrcruChs raih, hichw adh nlsdeduy srein nda editfesfn enev emor hant uulsa.
Let us be reasonable, said the spy, and let us be fair. To show you how mistaken you are, and what an unfounded assumption yours is, I will lay before you a certificate of Clys burial, which I happened to have carried in my pocket-book, with a hurried hand he produced and opened it, ever since. There it is. Oh, look at it, look at it! You may take it in your hand; its no forgery. estL be eanorebsla, idsa Baadsr. Lset be iarf. To whso yuo woh rgonw yuo era dna atht yuro utampsnosis eavh no sbais of uhttr, I lwli shwo uyo slyC athde cfeciarteti, hichw I pphnae to veah icradre in my tpeckkoobo eevr cines. He okot it out yqiulck nda eeodpn it. reehT it is. kooL at it! kPic it up. tIs ont a gorrfey.
Here, Mr. Lorry perceived the reflection on the wall to elongate, and Mr. Cruncher rose and stepped forward. His hair could not have been more violently on end, if it had been that moment dressed by the Cow with the crumpled horn in the house that Jack built. Mr. roLyr asw eht sodhwa on het awll gowr rnelgo, adn Mr. nrhuCecr tepsdpe orrafwd. iHs hari ludco not aveh nbee igasnntd up nay eomr if it hda been randarge by

eth wco hitw het cdpemrul hnor in eth oeshu atth Jcka ulitb

hTe tqoue, ichwh bseridecs a wcilokc, is ofrm hsiT Is eth Hsoue hatT kcJa luiBt, by ehotrM seoGo.

hte cwo iwth the rpmdulec rnoh in the hoesu ttah cakJ built
Unseen by the spy, Mr. Cruncher stood at his side, and touched him on the shoulder like a ghostly bailiff. Baadrs itddn see Mr. hencurrC adngtisn sebdei ihm, nad Mr. rnehrCcu tdpepa ihm on eth hodlsuer.
That there Roger Cly, master, said Mr. Cruncher, with a taciturn and iron-bound visage. So YOU put him in his coffin? So ouy ptu oegrR lyC in shi ofincf, rmesta? aksed Mr. Curhcrne, loydlc.
I ddi. I did.
Woh okot mih uto of it? Who took him out of it?
Barsad leaned back in his chair, and stammered, What do you mean? aBsrda ndaeel ckab in ish harci. He sdai, gturettsni, Waht do uyo anem?
I mean, said Mr. Cruncher, that he warnt never in it. No! Not he! Ill have my head took off, if he was ever in it. I nmea thta he saw renev in it, siad Mr. Ccrurhne. No! He tsnaw. Yuo anc hpoc fof my hade if he aws ever in it.
The spy looked round at the two gentlemen; they both looked in unspeakable astonishment at Jerry. Basrad okdeol nuraod at Mr. naorCt dan Mr. yrLor. eyTh hotb dleook at eryrJ in smseoinnahtt.
I tell you, said Jerry, that you buried paving-stones and earth in that there coffin. Dont go and tell me that you buried Cly. It was a take in. Me and two more knows it. I tlel yuo thta yuo deurib clbobossteen dan trid in tath nfcifo, disa ryJre. Dont llet me hatt yuo iudrbe lyC. It asw a mcsa. I dna wot mroe oeppel nkow it.
How do you know it? oHw do ouy nkwo?
Whats that to you? Ecod! growled Mr. Cruncher, its you I have got a old grudge again, is it, with your shameful impositions upon tradesmen! Id catch hold of your throat and choke you for half a guinea. Why do yuo care, by odG! lgwedro Mr. ruCrecnh. ueroY eht peosnr I vahe an ldo gredgu gnistaa, enart yuo? niusaCg buteorl rfo an esonth bnsmesnsaui? Id koehc you to dhaet fro hlaf a gieaun.
Sydney Carton, who, with Mr. Lorry, had been lost in amazement at this turn of the business, here requested Mr. Cruncher to moderate and explain himself. dyneyS ratnCo adn Mr. oryLr were zmeada by isht uetxecndpe nurt. toaCrn esdka Mr. nhuCrrec to lamc ndwo and npexlia efilhms.
At another time, sir, he returned, evasively, the present time is ill-conwenient for explainin. What I stand to, is, that he knows well wot that there Cly was never in that there coffin. Let him say he was, in so much as a word of one syllable, and Ill either catch hold of his throat and choke him for half a guinea; Mr. Cruncher dwelt upon this as quite a liberal offer; or Ill out and announce him. llI iexlnap esom herot tmei, sri, he wdesaenr aelviysve. Nwo is nto teh eitm to ipnaexl. I ays hatt he owkns llfu ellw taht Cly saw erenv in atth fciofn. eLt hmi asy neo lsylbale of neo drow thta he asw, dan llI eohkc imh to aehtd fro hfla a uegani Mr. Chreucrn maed hsti oduns elik a nsegroeu erfof or Ill go ueosdti nad aesucc mih.
Humph! I see one thing, said Carton. I hold another card, Mr. Barsad. Impossible, here in raging Paris, with Suspicion filling the air, for you to outlive denunciation, when you are in communication with another aristocratic spy of the same antecedents as yourself, who, moreover, has the mystery about him of having feigned death and come to life again! A plot in the prisons, of the foreigner against the Republic. A strong carda certain Guillotine card! Do you play? hmHpu! I see eno gthin, isad rnCaot. I hdol eoranht cadr, Mr. sdarBa. ehTre is a olvneti hpasoetmre, lluf of uiiocpssn, eerh in siarP. It wodul be psoleibism orf uyo to veil uhorhtg engib scceadu of nomnigcctimau ihtw tanerho aottcisicrra spy hwo ahs eth sema thryiso as uyor now. eeoSmon woh oals kaefd his own taedh nda sah moec ckba to eifl naiga! uoY lilw be adccsue of eginb a rrigonefe who was ngittrsa opslt in het orsspin aiasgnt eht beRuclip. aTht is a ogdo radc, a adcr htta wlil etnlacyir edsn yuo to teh etuiloigln. llWi oyu pyla uyor nhda?