Two Cities

Chapter 17: Hundreds of Visitors (2)
"I understand the reason for his fear very well, because the memory was terrible in the first place. Moreover, he lost his memory because of this incident. How his memory was lost and how it was recovered, he has been so far It's not quite clear either. So he feels there's no way he can ever guarantee that he won't lose his memory again. That alone makes the question unpleasant, I think."

This explanation went a little deeper than what Mr. Lorry wanted to find out. "Yes, and it's frightening to think about. But I have a question in my mind, Miss Pross, would it do Dr. Manette any good to shut up his wounds? Actually, it's because of this that I'm now conversing with you." The problem and the uneasiness it caused in me."

"There's no way around it," said Miss Pross, shaking her head. "If he touches that string he'll be in trouble. It's best not to touch it. In short, don't touch it whether you like it or not. Sometimes We heard him get up in the middle of the night and walk back and forth in the room (that is, above our heads). Later, the little bird realized that his heart was still walking in the prison cell he used to be, and hurried to him , the two walked together, walked, walked, until he was at peace. But he never said a word to her, what turned him off. She also found it best not to bring this question to him. And so they went up and down, and up and down, until her love and companionship calmed him down."

Although Miss Pross does not admit that she has imagination, but when she keeps repeating the sentence "walking around", she also shows the pain of being often entangled in an extremely painful thing, which shows that she also has imagination.

As I said before, that street corner is a wonderful place to hear the echo.At this moment, the echo of approaching footsteps was loud and carried, as if talking about the tired footsteps, the footsteps began to come.

"Come back!" Pross stood up and broke off the conversation. "There will be hundreds of people coming in no time."

This is a wonderful place, its ears are very good, and there are some unusual acoustics.When Mr. Lorry stood at the open window looking for the father and daughter who had already heard footsteps, he even thought that they would never arrive again-not only did the sound of their footsteps seem to be slowly receding, but there was no It was replaced by the footsteps of others, and the latter did not approach, only disappearing when it seemed to be approaching.However, the father and daughter still appeared.Miss Pross had met them at the street door.

Miss Pross, though red-faced, wild, and stern, beamed as she busied herself about her darling.She helped her take off her hat as she went upstairs, dusted the dust with the corner of her towel, and blew the dust with her mouth.She folded her cloak for easy storage.She was so proud when she touched her rich head of hair, as if she alone was the most vain and beautiful woman, and could only be proud of her hair.Her baby was also beaming.She embraced her, thanked her, and protested at all the fuss she had made for her--she could only do so in jest, or Miss Pross would be so wronged that she would go back to her room and cry.The doctor was also beaming.He looked at them both, and told Miss Pross that she had spoiled Lucy, but his tone and eyes were not inferior to Miss Pross's, and perhaps surpassed hers, if possible.Mr. Lorry was also beaming.He watched it all with a goofy grin in a tiny wig, thanking the lucky stars of his single life for shining a light on him and giving him a home as he approached old age.But this scene was not seen by "hundreds of people", and Mr. Lorry looked for a verification of Pross' prophecy, but failed to find it.

When dinner time came, "hundreds of people" still hadn't shown up.Among the housework, Miss Pross had the lower jobs, and she always did a good job.Her meals were ordinary, but well-cooked, beautifully designed, half English, half French, and outstanding.Miss Pross's friendship was very practical.She sought out poor Frenchmen in and around Soho, from whom she could learn the secrets of cooking for a shilling or a half-crown.She has learned so many fine arts from these waning Gallic descendants that even the best of the housemaids consider her a witch or godmother to Cinderella: just order a With a chicken, a rabbit, and one or two vegetables, you can make whatever delicacies you want.

Miss Pross dined with the doctor on Sundays, and on other days she had to eat in her room on the ground floor or on the second floor when no one knew - it was a blue room, except for her little bird. No one else can enter.At this hour Miss Pross was very easygoing, because of the little bird's happy face, and because she was trying to please her.So everyone had a good time at dinner.

It was a very muggy day.After dinner, Lucy suggested to sit outside and take the wine to drink under the sycamore tree outside.Because everything in the family revolved around her, and decisions were made because of her, they came under the plane tree.She brought wine specially for Mr. Rory, because she had proclaimed herself as Mr. Rory's messenger to hold the glass not long ago.When chatting under the plane tree, she always filled his glass.As they talked, the neighboring houses watched them furtively with their mysterious backs or gables.Indus also whispered above their heads in their own way.

"Hundreds of people" still didn't show up.They sat idle under the plane tree.Mr. Darnay did come, but he was alone.Dr. Manette received him kindly, as did Lucy.But Miss Pross felt a throbbing pain in her head and body, and went back into the house.She often suffered from it, and in ordinary conversation called it a "cramp."The doctor is in very good condition and looks very young.At such times he was most like Lucy.The two sat together, she leaned on his shoulder, and his arm rested on the back of her chair.It's delightful to look at the similarities between the two.

The doctor is very energetic.He talked all day, on many subjects. "Excuse me, Dr. Manette," said Mr. Darnay, who sat down under the plane tree and talked naturally.They were talking about London's old buildings—"Are you familiar with the Tower of London?"

"Lucy and I went there together, but by chance. Still, I've seen enough. I know there are many interesting things about it. I don't know much about the rest."

"I was in prison in that place, you remember," said Darnay, smiling, but also blushing a little with anger. "It's a different role, it's not watchable. They told me a weird thing when I was there."

"What's the matter?" Lucy asked.

"While rebuilding a certain place, the workmen discovered a dungeon that had been forgotten for years. On every stone of the dungeon's walls there were inscriptions, by the prisoners. Dates, names, grievances, prayers. On a foundation stone in the corner, there is a prisoner (he seems to have been killed) carved his last work, which is a letter carved with a bad tool. At first glance, it seems to be 0, i, C, but if you look carefully Observe, the last letter is G. There are no records of a prisoner with DIG as his initials, and there is no legend about this prisoner. Many useless guesses have been made about the name. Finally, it was suggested that these letters are not names. It is an abbreviation, but a word DIG. Some people checked the ground where the lettering was written very carefully, and found a piece of rotten paper and a rotten ashes in the soil under the gravel of various sizes. Trunk or leather bag. The two have become one. The words on the paper are all blurred, but he did write something, and hid it from the jailer."

"Dad," cried Lucy, "what's wrong with you!"

He had stood up suddenly with one hand on his head, which surprised them all.

"No, dear, I'm not feeling ill. It's raining, and it's raining heavily, and it's startling me. We'd better go in!"

He stabilized almost immediately.Indeed, heavier and heavier rains have begun to fall.He showed them the raindrops on the back of his hand, but he said nothing about the discovery he had just talked about.But Mr. Lorry's professional eyes noticed (or thought he did) on their return to the house, and there was a very strange expression on the doctor's face as he turned towards Charles Darnay. The expression on his face had also appeared that day when he had turned his face to Darnay in the court passage.

Doctors quickly returned to normal.Mr. Lorry couldn't believe his old business eyes.The doctor stopped under the golden giant in the living room, and told everyone that he still couldn't stand small surprises (though sometimes they didn't have to), and that the rain still startled him.At this time, even the golden giant's arm was not necessarily more stable than his.

Have afternoon tea.Miss Pross was busy making tea when the cramp struck again. "Hundreds of people" still didn't show up.At this time, Mr. Carleton also strolled in, and he was a total of two guests.

The night was very hot, and although they sat with the doors and windows wide open, the heat was unbearable.After tea they sat down again at a window to look at the deep twilight.Lucy sat beside Pa, Darnay beside Lucy, and Carton leaned against a window.The curtains are white and extremely long.The lightning wind that swirled into the street corner blew the curtains to the ceiling, moving them like ghost wings. "The rain is still falling, sparsely, but the raindrops are big and hard," said Dr. Manette, " Thunderstorms come slowly."

"But it will come," Carlton said.Everyone lowered their voices—most of those watching and waiting did.All the people watching and waiting for the lightning and thunder in the dark room are like this.

The streets were chaotic for a long time.People have to rush to find a place to hide from the rain before the storm.This peculiar place resounded with the echo of running feet, but no footsteps came to the house.

"It turned out to be a swarm of people, but it felt lonely." After everyone listened for a while, Darnay said.

"Isn't that very touching, Mr. Darnay?" said Lucy. "Sometimes I stay here all night until a vision arises—but to-night everything is so dark and solemn that even the slightest foolish fancy frightens me."

"Let's be scared together. Then we can understand what's going on" It shouldn't matter to you.It seems to me that this illusion is inexpressible, and it is only moving in ourselves.I sometimes stay here and listen all night long before I finally understand that it is the echo of all the footsteps that are slowly coming into our lives.

"In that case there are plenty of people who will come into our lives someday," said Sidney Carton, as melancholy as ever.

The sound of footsteps was intermittent, but more and more urgent, echoing over and over again on the street corner.Some seem to have come under the window, some seem to have entered the house, some come, some go, some slowly disappear, some stop abruptly, but they are all on the street far away, without a single figure.

"Are these footsteps destined to enter our common life, or to our separate lives, Miss Manette?"

"I don't know, Mr. Darnay. I told you it was only a foolish delusion, and you insisted on me answering. I was alone when I was overwhelmed by the sound of footsteps, and I imagined that they were meant to Footsteps of people who came into my life and my father's." "I allow them to come into my life!" Carlton said. "I ask no questions, no conditions. A great crowd is approaching us, Miss Manette, and I have seen them!—by lightning." A blinding flash of lightning caught him reclining In front of the window, add the last sentence.

"And heard them!" he added after a thunderclap. "They are coming, fast, fierce, and majestic!"

He was narrating the storm, the force of which caused him to stop speaking, for words were no longer audible.An unforgettable blast of thunder and lightning followed the sweeping rain.There was rumble of thunder, flashes of lightning, and heavy rain without a break until midnight.Then the moon rose again.

The bell of St. Paul's Cathedral struck one o'clock in the cloudless sky, and Mr. Lorry, accompanied by Jerry in high boots and holding a lantern, got up and went back to Clerkenwell.On the road from Soho to Clerkenwell, there are some wild and uninhabited sections. Mr. Lorry always made an appointment with Jerry in advance, although he was always two hours earlier than now. leave.

"What a dreadful night! Almost brought the dead out of the grave!"

"I've never seen a night like it myself, my lord, and don't hope to have one—don't know what's going to happen!" answered Jerry.

"Good night, Mr. Carleton," said the businessman. "Good-bye, Mr. Darnay. Is there any chance of us meeting again like this?"

Maybe it will, maybe.You see that huge crowd of scurrying and screaming is approaching them.

(End of this chapter)