Chapter 19 Chapter Eleven

"Sydney," said Mr. Stryver to his jackal, that very night or the next morning, "make another bowl of five-flavored wine, and I have something to tell you." That night, the night before, the night before, and many nights before that, Sidney had worked overtime to get Stryver's papers done before the big holiday.The paperwork was at last done, and Stryver's backlog was all neatly wrapped up, just waiting for November to arrive with its meteorological cloud, its legal cloud, and its door-to-door business. Sidney used cold compresses many times, but his spirits were still bad and his mind was still unclear.He got through the night by using a lot of wet towels.Before using the wet towel, I drank a correspondingly large amount of wine, which made me exhausted physically and mentally.Now he pulled off the "big turban" and threw it into the basin.For six hours he had been soaking towels in the basin from time to time.

"Are you mixing another bowl of five-flavored wine?" Stryver, with his hands in his belt, was lying on the sofa with his big belly, and glanced at him. "yes." "Listen now, I'm going to tell you something that will surprise you, and you may say that I'm not as shrewd as you think: I want to get married." "you think?" "Yes. And not for the money. Now what's your opinion?" "I don't want to express much opinion. Who is it?" "guess." "Do I know you?" "guess." "It's five o'clock in the morning, and my brain is crackling like frying oil, and I don't want to guess. If you want me to guess, you'll have to buy me supper."

"Well, then I'll tell you," said Stryver, sitting up slowly. "I'm rather disappointed in myself, Sidney, because I can't make you understand me, because you're such a dull fool." "But you," Sidney replied while busy mixing five-flavored wine, "you are such a sensitive and poetic elf." "Listen!" replied Stryver, laughing boastfully, "though I don't want to claim to be the soul of Rommath (for I wish to be more sane), I am softer and more affectionate than you." "You're luckier than I am, if that's what you mean."

"I didn't mean that. I meant I was going to be more—more—" "More courteous, if you're willing to do it," Carlton reminded him. "Yes! Call me courteous. I mean I'm a man," Stryver boasted of himself while his friend was bartending, "I'd love to be popular with women and spend Kung fu, and know how to do it. Much better than you." "Go on," said Sidney Carton. "No, before I go on," said Stryver, shaking his head condescendingly, "I must tell you something. You go to Dr. Manette's as often as I do, perhaps more than I do." More, but you're always so blue out there, I'm ashamed of you. You're always like a silent, lethargic doormat, and I swear on my life and soul, I'm pissed off for you, Sid Ni!"

"You'll feel bad too, which is a great thing for a court worker like you," Sidney replied. "You should thank me!" "But you can't just slip away like that," replied Stryver, still turning to Sidney. "No, Sidney, it's my duty to tell you—to help you, I'm going to tell you, you It's embarrassing to associate with such a person. You are very unpopular!" Sidney drank a large glass of five-flavored wine he made himself, and smiled. "Look at me!" said Stryver, puffing out his chest. "My condition makes me more independent, and I don't need to be popular like you do. But why should I need to be popular?"

"I haven't seen you popular with anyone," murmured Carton. "I did it out of strategy, out of principle. Look at me, I'm thriving." "You're not going to prosper by talking about your marriage plans," Carlton replied nonchalantly. "I hope you will continue to be popular. And as for me—will you never understand that I'm hopeless?" he asked sarcastically. "You don't have to be hopeless," replied his friend, without much reassurance. "I don't have to, I understand," said Sidney Carton. "Who is your lady?"

"Don't be ashamed when I announce the name, Sidney," said Mr. Stryver, who wished for a friendly welcome to his announcement. "Because I know you don't mean half of what you say to yourself, and it doesn't matter if you mean it all, so I'll start with a little preface. You once spoke contemptuously of this lady in my presence. " "real?" "Certainly, and in this room." Sidney Carton looked at the five-flavored wine, and at his smug friend.He drank the five-flavored wine and looked at his proud friend again. "The girl is Miss Manette, and you said she was a fair-haired rag doll. If you were a delicate creature in that respect, Sidney, I would have been offended at you for saying that. But you are a rough , completely lacking that experience, so I don't care, just as I don't care what a person who doesn't understand painting has to say about my paintings, or what a person who doesn't know music has to say about my compositions."

Sidney Carton drank quickly--watched his friend gulp. "Now you know all about it, Sidney," said Mr. Stryver, "I don't care about property, she's a charming girl, and I've made up my mind to make myself happy. In short, I think I'm in a position to make myself happy." She marrying me is marrying a rich man, a quick riser, a man of stature: it's good fortune for her, and she deserves it. You're amazed Is it?" Carlton, still drinking the five-flavored wine, replied, "Why should I be surprised?" "Do you agree?" Carlton, still drinking the five-flavored wine, replied, "Why should I disapprove?"

"Well!" said his friend Stryver, "you were more relaxed than I reckoned, and less mercenary to me than I had reckoned, though no doubt well aware of what a strong-willed man you old fellow are. Yes, Sidney, I've had enough of the way I'm living--I can't do it any other way. I feel it's nice to have a home to go back to if I want to (if I don't want to go back as much can stay outside), and I feel that Miss Manette will be useful in any case, and can make me brighter. So I made up my mind. Now, Sidney, old chap, I want to say to you and A few words about your future. You know you're in a bad place, you are. You don't understand the importance of money. You've had a hard time, and soon you'll be covered in bruises, and then you'll be poor and sick. You should really consider getting a nanny gone."

The condescension with which he spoke made him twice as big and four times more repulsive. "Now, let me give you an idea," went on Stryver, "you have to face reality. I face reality, just in a different way. You have your way, and you have to face reality Get married! Find someone to take care of you. You don't like women, don't understand women, can't deal with women, don't take it seriously. Find someone. Find a decent woman with some money - a lady boss , or the landlady or something—marry her and save for the rainy day. That's all you have to do. Think about it, Sidney."

"I'll think about it," Sidney said.