Chapter 25 Chapter Seventeen One Night

The sun set on that quiet street corner in Soho with a splendor it had never seen before.It was a memorable evening when the doctor and his daughter sat together under the plane tree.The light of the moon also shines on the great city of London with a tenderness that has never been seen before.She saw them sitting under the tree, and the leaves shone on their faces. Lucy is getting married tomorrow.She reserved this last evening for Papa.The two sat alone under the plane tree. "Are you happy, dear papa?" "Very nice, boy." The two had been sitting there for a long time, but they didn't speak much.When it was still bright enough to work and read, she did not do the daily needlework, nor did she read to her father—she sat next to him under the tree many times, did needlework, and read to him Books, this time is different, she has no reason to do that.

"I'm happy tonight, Papa. I've been given love: my love for Charles and Charles' love for me. I'm very happy. But if I don't still give my life to you, or my marriage I wouldn't be as happy as I told you, even if it were only a few streets away from you. I'd blame myself. Even as it is—" Even now, she couldn't help sobbing a little. She put her arms around Pa's neck in the lonely moonlight and rested her face on his chest.In the moonlight—the moonlight is always deserted, as the light of the sun itself—as the light called the life of man—as the light of life comes and goes, so cold.

"My dearest! This is the last time. Can you tell me that you are very, very sure that my new affections and duties will not affect our relationship? I understand that very well, but you understand Are you sure in your own mind?" Her father replied with a joyful and firm confidence he seldom displayed, "Yes, my dear! And," he kissed her tenderly, "from the state of your marriage, Lucy, my future Surely it will be better than it was without this marriage--yes, it will be better than it was." "Wish I could have that hope, Dad—" "Trust me, my dear! It will. When you think about it, it's so natural, so simple, it's the way it should be, my dear. You're young, and you think only of me, and you don't understand what I've done for you." Fuck you, I'm afraid you'll be wasted—"

She put her hand over his mouth, but he took her hand and repeated: "Kneel down, boy, you shouldn't have wasted time for me. Your selfless help has prevented you from fully understanding how anxious I am about this matter. You can ask yourself, if you can't be completely happy, can I be completely happy?" Are you happy?" "If I hadn't met Charles, Dad, you and I would be very happy too." He smiled because she had automatically admitted that after meeting Charles she would not be happy without him.He said: "Son, you've met him, and he's Charles. If it wasn't Charles, it would have been someone else, or, if there wasn't anyone else, the cause fell on me, and it would be my life The shadow of the Middle Dark Ages fell out of me, and onto you."

It was the first time she had heard him speak of his own day of suffering, besides that trial.These words produced a strange and fresh feeling in her ears, which was hard to forget for a long time afterwards. "You see," said the Bovey doctor, pointing to the moon, "I've seen the moon from the prison window, and its light made me cringe, always reminding me that it also shines on all that I've lost. That's for me It's a torture that makes me bang my head against a prison wall. I've looked at the moon in a very stupid state, unable to think of anything but the lines I can draw on it when it's full and the number of vertical lines intersecting horizontal lines," he went on looking at the moon with a pensive expression, "twenty lines can be drawn in both directions, and I remember that the twentieth line is difficult to squeeze in. gone."

As she listened to him, a strange thrill brought her back to the time he was talking about.As his story progressed, so did her stimulation, but the manner in which he told it did not frighten her.He just seemed to be comparing the joys and happiness of his day with the pain and suffering of the past. "I have looked at the moon a million times and imagined the unborn child that was snatched from me. Could it live? Its mother was terrified, was it born alive, or was it dead? It was a child that could avenge its father (There was a period in prison where my urge for revenge was overwhelming) Would the boy never know what happened to his father? Would he even think his father had disappeared of his own accord? Wouldn't it? A girl? Will she ever grow up?"

She moved closer to him, kissing his cheek and hand. "I've imagined on my own that my daughter might have forgotten all about me—or more likely, didn't know me at all, didn't realize that I existed. Year after year I imagined how she would be then .I had imagined her marrying a man who knew nothing of my fate; I had vanished from the memory of the living; my place in the hearts of the next generation was a blank." "Father! For a daughter who has not yet been born, you have imagined so much, I am really touched from the bottom of my heart, as if I am the child in your imagination!"

"You, Lucy? It was you who comforted me and restored me to these memories, on this last night, between you and me and the moon--what did I just say?" "You said that your daughter doesn't know you at all and doesn't care about you at all." "Exactly! But on other moonlit nights, when sadness and silence moved me in another way -- when a sense of calm akin to sorrow moved me -- the sense of peace Any emotion based on grief is possible. At that time I imagined that she entered my cell, came to me, and led me out of the castle and into freedom. I often saw her in the moonlight. image, as I see you now. Only I never held her in my arms; her image stood between the barred window and the door. But that is not the child I am speaking of, Do you know?"

"It doesn't look right; that's just an image of it, an illusion, isn't it?" "No. That's something else. I'm excited, my eyes are dim, and she's in front of me, but she never moves. The phantasm my mind pursues is another more real child. I only know that she resembles her Mother, there are others like her—like you—but not like her. Do you know what I mean, Lucy? I don't think so? To understand the difference one has to suffer to feel, You'd have to go to jail alone." Analyzing his past mood, although his attitude was calm, it couldn't help making the girl's blood run cold.

"When I was in a calmer mood, I would look at the moonlight and imagine her coming to me, taking me out, and telling me that her married family was full of memories of her lost father, and that memory was filled with love. Her There was my portrait in the house, and I was in her prayers. Her life was young, happy, useful, but full of my unfortunate history." "I am that child, Papa. I am not half as good as she is, but I love you as much as she is." "She let me watch her children," said Povey's doctor. "The children had heard of me, and had been taught to pity me. They passed the state prison well away from the grim walls, only looked up at its bars, and spoke in a low voice. But she couldn't save me. I imagined she always sent me back after showing me all. But my pain was eased by tears, I got down on my knees and blessed her."

"I wish I was that boy, papa. Ah, my dear, dear, will you wish me the same warm blessing tomorrow?" "Lucy, I remember all the troubles of the past, because I have reason to love you tonight that cannot be expressed in words, and thank God for this great happiness. Even when I let my imagination run wild, I have not Imagine the happiness and the beauty of the future with you now." He embraced her, solemnly praised her to heaven, and humbly thanked heaven for giving her to him.After a while, the two entered the house. No other guests were invited except Mr. Lorry, not even a maid of honor, except the tall, lanky Miss Pross.After they got married, they didn't change their residence, they just expanded their house and even rented the upper house, and they didn't plan to add anything else—the upper house was formerly inhabited by the legendary invisible tenant. Dr. Manette was very happy at the simple supper.There were only three of them, and the third was Miss Pross.The doctor regretted Charles' absence, and somewhat disapproved of that little ploy that had lovingly repelled him.He made a heartfelt toast to Charles. The three of them lived like this until they said good night to Lucy before breaking up.But at three o'clock in the morning when everything was still, Lucy went downstairs again, and entered her father's bedroom with a secret pleasure: still she was not free from some apprehension which she did not know. However, everything is still the same, very calm.Father fell asleep, his white hair lined against the undisturbed pillow, like a picture; his hands rested peacefully on the quilt.She put the unused candle in a distant dark place, walked quietly to his bed, put her lips on his lips, and then bent down to look at him. The bitter tears of prison life soaked his beautiful face, but he covered up the tears with strong determination, even after falling asleep.Of all the faces that fought that night against an invisible enemy in the wide world of sleep, there was no face more startling than his: calm, determined, yet alert. She put her hand timidly on his dear breast, and said a prayer: she would be faithful to him forever, because that love that came from her was also the comfort that his bitterness deserved.Then, she withdrew her hand, kissed his lips again, and left.In this way, when dawn came, the shadow of Tong Ye swayed on his face, as soft as her lips when she prayed for him.