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双城记 查尔斯·狄更斯-第章

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y of pity for him。 What fine hidden sensibilities are touched in such a case; no echoes tell; but it is so; and it was so here。 Carton was the first stranger to whom little Lucie held out her chubby arms; and he kept his place with her as she grew。 The little boy had spoken of him; almost at the last。 ‘Poor Carton! Kiss him for me!'
Mr。 Stryver shouldered his way through the law; like some great engine forcing itself through turbid water; and dragged his useful friend in his wake; like a boat towed astern。 As the boat so favoured is usually in a rough plight; and mostly under water; so; Sydney had a swamped life of it。 But; easy and strong custom; unhappily so much easier and stronger in him than any stimulating sense of desert or disgrace; made it the life he was to lead; and he no more thought of emerging from his state of lion's jackal; than any real jackal may be supposed to think of rising to be a lion。 Stryver was rich; had married a florid widow with property and three boys; who had nothing particularly shining about them but the straight hair of their dumpling heads。
These three young gentleman; Mr。 Stryver; exuding patronage of the most offensive quality from every pore; had walked before him like three sheep to the quiet corner in Soho; and had offered as pupils to Lucie's husband: delicately saying; ‘Halloa! here are three lumps of bread…and…cheese towards your matrimonial picnic; Darnay!' The polite rejection of the three lumps of bread…and…cheese had quite bloated Mr。 Stryver with indignation; which he afterwards turned to account in the training of the young gentlemen; by directing them to beware of the pride of Beggars; like that tutor…fellow。 He was also in the habit of declaiming to Mrs。 Stryver; over his full…bodied wine; on the arts Mrs。 Darnay had once put in practice to ‘catch' him; and on the diamond…cut…diamond arts in himself; madam; which had rendered him ‘not to be caught。' Some of his King's Bench familiars; who were occasionally parties to the full…bodied wine and the lie; excused him for the latter by saying that he had told it so often; that he believed it himself……which is surely such an incorrigible aggravation of an originally bad offence; as to justify any such offender's being carried off to some suitably retired spot; and there hanged out of the way。
These were among the echoes to which Lucie; sometimes pensive; sometimes amused and laughing; listened in the echoing corner; until her little daughter was six years old。 How near to her heart the echoes of her child's tread came; and those of her own dear father's; always active and self…possessed; and those of her dear husband's; need not be told。 Nor; how the lightest echo of their united home; directed by herself with such a wise and elegant thrift that it was more abundant than any waste; was music to her。 Nor; how there were echoes all about her; sweet in her ears; of the many times her father had told her that he found her more devoted to him married (if that could be) than single; and of the many times her husband had said to her that no cares and duties seemed to divide her love for him or her help to him; and asked her ‘What is the magic secret; my darling; of your being everything to all of us; as if there were only one of us; yet never seeming to be hurried; or to have too much to do?' 
But; there were other echoes; from a distance; that rumbled menacingly in the corner all through this space of time。 And it was now; about little Lucie's sixth birthday; that they began to have an awful sound; as of a great storm in France with a dreadful sea rising。
On a night in mid…July; one thousand seven hundred and eighty…nine; Mr。 Lorry came in late; from Tellson's; and sat himself down by Lucie and her husband in the dark window。 It was a hot; wild night; and they were all three reminded of the old Sunday night when they had looked at the lightning from the same place。
‘I began to think;' said Mr。 Lorry; pushing his brown wig back; ‘that I should have to pass the night at Tellson's。 We have been so full of business all day; that we have not known what to do first; or which way to turn。 There is such an uneasiness in Paris; that we have actually a run of confidence upon us! Our customers over there; seem not to be able to confide their property to us fast enough。 There is positively a mania among some of them for sending it to England。'
‘That has a bad look;' said Darnay。
‘A bad look; you say; my dear Darnay? Yes; but we don't know what reason there is in it。 People are so unreasonable! Some of us at Tellson's are getting old; and we really can't be troubled out of the ordinary course without due occasion。'
‘Still;' said Darnay; ‘you know how gloomy and threatening the sky is。'
‘I know that; to be sure;' assented Mr。 Lorry; trying to persuade himself that his sweet temper was soured; and that he grumbled; ‘but I am determined to be peevish after my long day's botheration。 Where is Manette?'
‘Here he is;' said the Doctor; entering the dark room at the moment。
‘I am quite glad you are at home; for these hurries and forebodings by which I have been surrounded all day long; have made me nervous without reason。 You are not going out; I hope?'
‘No; I am going to play backgammon with you; if you like;' said the Doctor。
‘I don't think I do like; if I may speak my mind。 I am not fit to be pitted against you to…night。 Is the tea…board still there; Lucie? I can't see。'
‘Of course; it has been kept for you。' 
‘Thank ye; my dear。 The precious child is safe in bed?' 
‘And sleeping soundly。
‘That's right; all safe and well! I don't know why anything should be otherwise than safe and well here; thank God; but I have been so put out all day; and I am not as young as I was! My tea; my dear! Thank ye。 Now; e and take your place in the circle; and let us sit quiet; and hear the echoes about which you have your theory。'
‘Not a theory; it was a fancy。'
‘A fancy; then; my wise pet;' said Mr。 Lorry; patting her hand。 ‘They are very numerous and very loud; though; are they not? Only hear them!'
Headlong; mad; and dangerous footsteps to force their way into anybody's life; footsteps not easily made clean again if once stained red; the footsteps ragi
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