Chapter 12 Chapter Four Congratulations

The crowded pot of boiling soup that had been simmering all day was now spilling its last remnants through the dimly lit corridors.At this time, Dr. Manette, his daughter Lucy Manette, Mr. Lorry, the defendant's attorney, and Mr. Stryver, the defendant's defense lawyer, were surrounding Charles Darnay who had just been released, congratulating him on his death. escape. Even though the lights were much brighter, it was very difficult to recognize the old shoemaker in the Paris attic in this intelligent, straight-backed Doctor Manette.But those who have seen him more than once, even if they haven't had the chance to hear the sad tone from his low and gloomy voice, and have never seen the gloomy expression that is often dispirited for no reason, still want to take a second look at him.It could have been an external factor, the recollection of a painful experience that had haunted him for so long (Biga at this trial), or it could have been the He appears by himself from the essence of his nature, shrouding him in a haze. At this time, people who don't know his origin and development will inevitably feel confused, as if seeing the summer sun casting the shadow of the real Bastille Prison from three hundred miles away. to him.

Only his daughter had the power to drive this gloomy brooding from his heart.She was the golden thread that bound him to the history before the Passion and to the present after the Passion: the sound of her voice, the radiance of her cheeks, the touch of her hands, were almost forever to him. a beneficial effect.Can't say forever, because she also reminded him of certain moments that made her lose her magic.But those moments were few and far between, and she believed they were a thing of the past. Mr. Darnay had kissed her hand warmly and gratefully, and had turned to Mr. Stryver to express his warm thanks.Mr. Stryver, in his late thirties, looked twenty years older than he really was.A stocky, loud, red-faced, carefree man, totally free from decorum, he had the manner (physically as well as morally) of pushing his way through a crowd to find someone to talk to, and the consequences were very predictable. He defended this practice.

Still in his wig and lawyer's gown, he barged in on his ex-client and pushed Mr. Lorry aside for no reason.He said: "I'm very glad to have gotten you out with a big victory, Mr. Darnay. It was a shameless trial, shameless in the extreme. But its chances of success are not diminished by its shamelessness." "I have a lifelong debt of gratitude to you -- in two senses," the ex-partner said, grabbing his hand. "I have done my best for you, Mr. Darnay; and I am a man who has done my best, as well as any man, I believe." This was obviously intended to be followed up by others, "You are much better than others." Mr. Lorry said so.Maybe he didn't say this without his own intentions.He intends to squeeze back into the circle.

"You see it that way?" said Mr. Stryver. "Yes, you've been here all day and should be informed. You're a business man, too." "That's why," said Mr Lowry.The lawyer familiar with the law pushed him back into the circle, just as he had pushed him out not long ago--"That's why I suggest to Dr. Manette to stop talking and order everyone to go home. Miss Lucy is not looking well, Dale Mr Nei has had a horrible day and we are all exhausted." "You can only speak for yourself, Mr. Lorry," said Mr. Stryver. "I've got a night's work to do. Speak for yourself."

"I speak for myself," replied Mr. Lorry, "and for Mr. Darnay, and for Miss Lucy--Miss Lucy, do you think I can speak for all of us?" Yes, but also glanced at her father. Her father's face seemed frozen, looking at Darnay strangely.It was a focused look, and the brows gradually tightened, revealing an air of disgust and suspicion, even mixed with fear.With such a strange expression on his face, his thoughts had already flown into the distance. "Daddy," Lucy said, placing a hand tenderly on his. He slowly shook off the shadow on his body and turned to her.

"Shall we go home, Dad?" He took a long breath and said, "Okay." Friends of the acquitted prisoner parted ways with the feeling he wasn't going to be released that night - but that impression was only his own making.The lights in the tunnel were all but extinguished.The iron gate was banging and rattling shut.People are leaving this horrible place.Interest in the gallows, the flail, the scourging post, the branding iron would not attract people to reappear here until the next morning.Lucy Manette stepped between her father and Mr. Darnay into the open air.They hired a cab, and the father and daughter drove away.

Mr. Stryver had parted ways with them in the passage, and had crowded back into the cloakroom.Another man, who never joined the group, nor spoke a word to any of them, was leaning against a wall shrouded in the deepest darkness, and slowly came out when the others had all left. Shadow, stood and watched till the carriage drove away.Now he walked towards the street where Mr. Lorry and Mr. Darnay stood. "Then, Mr. Lorry! Can the person in charge speak to Mr. Darnay?" Mr. Carleton's part in the day's proceedings has not been thanked, nor is it known.He had taken off his lawyer's robes, but that didn't improve his appearance.

"If you know the conflicts in the minds of people who handle business, you will find it very interesting. There are two forces fighting, one is the impulse of good nature, and the other is the face of business work." Mr. Lorry blushed, and said enthusiastically, "You have said this before, sir. We who handle business serve the company and cannot be our own masters. We must think more about the company and less about ourselves." "I know, I know," said Mr. Carton casually, "don't be angry, Mr. Lorry. I have no doubt that you are as good as any other, and I dare say you are more kind."

"Actually, sir," Mr. Lorry went on, ignoring him, "I really don't know what you have to do with it. I'm much older than you, and I may venture to say that I really don't know about it." will become your business." "Business! God bless you, I have no business!" said Mr. Carleton. "It's a pity you have no business, sir." "I also feel sorry." "If you have a business," Mr. Lorry refused to relax, "you might do well." "May the Lord love you, no!--I won't do it well," said Mr. Carleton.

"Well, sir," cried Mr. Lorry, annoyed by the indifference of the other party, "business is a very good thing, a very respectable thing. And, if business restricts and inconveniences, compels Silence, Mr. Darnay is a generous gentleman, and he knows how to deal with it generously. Good night, Mr. Darnay. God bless you, sir! I wish you prosperity and happiness today--sedan!" Mr. Lorry was perhaps a little angry with himself, and a little angry with the lawyer.He hurried into the sedan chair and went back to Tellson's Bank.Carlton exuded the smell of beer and seemed a little drunk.He laughed, and turning to Darnay said:

"It was a strange chance that threw you and me together. It must seem strange to you to stand alone on the street slabs with a man who looks like you tonight?" "I hardly feel like I'm back in the world yet," replied Charles Darnay. "I don't wonder at that; you've come a long way on the road to hell. You don't even have the strength to speak." "I'm beginning to feel really powerless." "Then why don't you go eat? When those fools are studying which world you should belong to, I have already eaten. Let me guide you to the nearest hotel to have a delicious meal!" He took his arm and led him across Road Gehill to Fleet Street, across a shed and into a tavern.They are ushered into a hut.Here Charles Darnay dined a simple but delicious supper, drank some good wine, and began to regain his strength.Carlton, on the other hand, sat across the table with a rather rude expression on his face, with his own bottle of beer in front of him. "Do you feel you are back in this troubled world now, Mr. Darnay?" "My sense of time and place are terribly confused. However, I've recovered enough to feel confused." "You must be very pleased!" he said sharply, filling another glass of wine.That cup is quite big. "The best thing for me is to forget that I belong to this world. The world is no good to me--except this wine. I am no good to it either. So in this We're not much alike in matters. In fact I'm starting to feel that we're not alike in any way." A day of emotional torment had driven Charles Darnay into a trance.Feeling like a dream in the company of this rough-mannered man whose face resembled his own, he didn't know what to answer, and in the end he simply said nothing. "Now that you have finished your meal," said Carton at once, "why don't you drink to your health, Mr. Darnay? Why don't you make a toast?" "Whose health is a toast to? Whom is a toast to?" "What's the matter, isn't that person on the tip of your tongue? It should be there, it must be there, I swear it must be there." "That's Miss Manette!" "Miss Manette!" Carlton watched his companions toast, threw his own glass on the wall behind him, shattered it, and rang for another glass. "It was a pretty lady you put into the carriage in the dark, Mr. Darnay!" said he, pouring wine into a new glass. The answer was a slight frown and a short "yes." "It's very lucky to have such a beautiful young lady sympathize with you and cry for you! How do you feel? To receive such sympathy and pity, even if you are judged by life and death, is it worth it, Mr. Darnay?" Darnay remained silent. "She was very pleased when I brought your news to her. Although she didn't express it, I estimated it." The allusion was a timely reminder to Darnay that the obnoxious companion had offered to help him through that day.He immediately turned to the topic and thanked him. "I don't need thanks, and don't deserve it," was the nonchalant reply. "In the first place, it was a piece of cake, and in the second place, I don't know why. Mr. Darnay, let me ask you a question." "Welcome, and you can also express your thanks for your help." "Do you think I like you very much?" "Indeed, Mr. Carton," replied Darnay, strangely disturbed. "I haven't asked myself that question yet." "Then you should ask yourself now." "From what you've done, you seem to like it, but I don't think you like me." "I don't think I like you, either," Carlton said. "I have begun to have a high opinion of your understanding." "However," Darnay continued, rising to ring the bell, "I hope this will not prevent me from paying my bill, or our parting from each other without malice." Carton replied, "I'm not going!" Darnay rang. "Are you going to pay the whole bill?" Carlton asked.The other party answered in the affirmative. "Then get me another pint of the same. Wake me up at ten o'clock, man." Charles Darnay paid his bill and bade him good night.Carlton didn't answer, but stood up with a somewhat challenging attitude, "One last word, Mr. Darnay: Do you think I'm drunk?" "I think you've been drinking, Mr. Carleton." "Think? You know I've been drinking." "Since I have to answer, my aim is: I know." "Then you must understand why I drink too. I'm a hopeless coolie, sir. I don't care about anybody in the world, and nobody cares about me." "I'm sorry. You could have made better use of your intellect." "Perhaps, Mr. Darnay, perhaps not. But don't be complacent about your sober face. You don't know what will happen. Good night!" The strange fellow was left alone.He picked up a candle, walked to the mirror on the wall, and carefully looked at himself in the mirror. "Do you particularly like this person?" He murmured to his own shadow, "Why do you especially like a person who looks like you? You know you don't love him, get out! You let How much you have changed! What a reason, you actually fell in love with someone, but he let you see what you can't pursue, and what you might become! If you exchanged positions with him, Can you be as favored by those blue eyes as he is? Can you be sympathized by that excited face as he is? Well, let's face it, you hate him!" He turned to the pint for solace and drank it down in minutes.Then he fell asleep with his arms folded on the table, his hair dragging on the table, and the candle tears fell on him like a long shroud.