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The friends of the acquitted prisoner had
dispersed, under the impressionwhich he
himself had originatedthat he would not be
released that night. The lights were nearly all
extinguished in the passages, the iron gates
were being closed with a jar and a rattle, and the
dismal place was deserted until to-morrow morning's
interest of gallows, pillory, whipping-post,
and branding-iron, should repeople it. Walking
between her father and Mr. Darnay, Lucie
Manette passed into the open air. A hackney
coach was called, and the father and daughter
departed in it.

Mr. Stryver had left them in the passages,
to shoulder his way back to the robing-room.
Another person who had not joined the group,
or interchanged a word with any one of them,
but who had been leaning against the wall where
its shadow was darkest, had silently strolled out
after the rest, and had looked on until the coach
drove away. He now stepped up to where
Mr. Lorry and Mr. Darnay stood upon the
pavement.

"So, Mr. Lorry! Men of business may speak
to Mr. Darnay now?"

Nobody had made any acknowledgment of
Mr. Carton's part in the day's proceedings;
nobody had known of it. He was unrobed,
and was none the better for it in appearance.

"If you knew what a conflict goes on in
the business mind, when the business mind is
divided between good-natured impulse and
business appearances, you would be amused, Mr.
Darnay."

Mr. Lorry reddened, and said, warmly, "You
have mentioned that before, sir. We men of
business who serve a House, are not our own
masters. We have to think of the House, more
than of ourselves."

"I know, I know," rejoined Mr. Carton,
carelessly. "Don't be nettled, Mr. Lorry. You
are as good as another, I have no doubt; better,
I dare say."

"And indeed, sir," pursued Mr. Lorry, not
minding him, "I really don't know what you
have to do with the matter. If you'll excuse
me, as very much your elder, for saying so, I
really don't know that it is your business."

"Business! Bless you, I have no business,"
said Mr. Carton.

"It is a pity you have not, sir."

"I think so too."

"If you had," pursued Mr. Lorry, "perhaps
you would attend to it."

"Lord love you, no!—I shouldn't," said Mr.
Carton.

"Well, sir!" cried Mr. Lorry, thoroughly
heated by his indifference, "business is a very
good thing, and a very respectable thing. And,
sir, if business imposes its restraints and its
silences and impediments, Mr. Darnay as a
young gentleman of generosity knows how to
make allowance for that circumstance. Mr.
Darnay, good night, God bless you, sir! I hope
you have been this day preserved for a prosperous
and happy life.—Chair there!"

Perhaps a little angry with himself, as well as
with the barrister, Mr. Lorry bustled into the
chair, and was carried off to Tellson's. Carton,
who smelt of port wine, and did not appear to
be quite sober, laughed then, and turned to
Darnay:

"This is a strange chance that throws you and
me together. This must be a strange night to
you, standing alone here with your counterpart
on these street-stones?"

"I hardly seem yet," returned Charles Darnay,
"to belong to this world again."

"I don't wonder at it; it's not so long since
you were pretty far advanced on your way to
another. You speak faintly."

"I begin to think I am faint."

"Then why the devil don't you dine? I dined,
myself, while those numskulls were deliberating
which world you should belong tothis, or some
other. Let me show you the nearest tavern to
dine well at."

Drawing his arm through his own, he took
him down Ludgate-hill to Fleet-street, and so,
up a covered way, into a tavern. Here, they
were shown into a little room, where Charles
Darnay was soon recruiting his strength with a
good plain dinner and good wine: while Carton
sat opposite to him at the same table, with his
separate bottle of port before him, and his fully
half-insolent manner upon him.

"Do you feel, yet, that you belong to this
terrestrial scheme again, Mr. Darnay?"

"I am frightfully confused regarding time and
place; but I am so far mended as to feel that."

"It must be an immense satisfaction!"

He said it bitterly, and filled up his glass
again: which was a large one.

"As to me, the greatest desire I have, is to
forget that I belong to it. It has no good in it
for meexcept wine like thisnor I for it.
So we are not much alike in that particular.
Indeed, I begin to think we are not much alike
in any particular, you and I."

Confused by the emotion of the day, and
feeling his being there with this Double of
coarse deportment, to be like a dream, Charles
Darnay was at a loss how to answer; finally,
answered not at all.

"Now your dinner is done," Carton presently
said, "why don't you call a health, Mr. Darnay;
why don't you give your toast?"

"What health? What toast?"

"Why, it's on the tip of your tongue. It
ought to be, it must be, I'll swear it's there."

"Miss Manette, then!"

"Miss Manette, then!"

Looking his companion full in the face while
he drank the toast, Carton flung his glass over
his shoulder against the wall, where it shivered
to pieces; then, rang the bell, and ordered in
another.

"That's a fair young lady to hand to a coach
in the dark, Mr. Darnay!" he said, filling his new
goblet.

A slight frown and a laconic "Yes,'' were the
answer.

"That's a fair young lady to be pitied by and
wept for by! How does it feel? Is it worth

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