Two Cities

Chapter 24
"Sydney," said Mr. Stryver to his jackal, that very night or early morning, "make another bowl of five-flavored wine, and I want to tell you something."

That night, many nights, Sidney worked overtime to get Stryver's papers in order before the big holiday.The paperwork had finally been dealt with, and Stryver's backlog of work had been neatly dealt with, just waiting for November to arrive with its meteorological cloud, its legal cloud, and its door-to-door business.

Sidney applied cold compresses several times, but he was still in a bad mood and his mind was still in a daze.He got through the night with a lot of wet towels.Before using the wet towel, I drank a lot of wine and was exhausted.Now he puts the "big turban" in the basin.He has been soaking towels non-stop for six hours.

"Are you mixing another five-flavored wine?" Stryver, with his hands on his waist, lay on the sofa with a big belly, and kept looking at him.

"Yes."

"Now listen, I'm going to tell you something that will shock you so much that you might think I'm not very smart: I want to get married." "You want to?" "Yes. And it's not about the money. Now What's your opinion?"

"I don't want to comment. Who is it?" "Guess."

"Have I seen it?" "Guess."

"It's five o'clock in the morning, and my brain is as messy as a paste. I don't want to guess. If you want me to guess, you're treating me to dinner tonight."

"Well, then I'll tell you directly," said Stryver, sitting up slowly. "Sidney, I'm very disappointed in myself because you don't understand me, and you're such a dull fool."

"But you," Sidney replied while mixing drinks, "you are such a sensitive and poetic elf."

"Listen!" replied Stryver, laughing cheerfully. "I don't want to admit I have a Romance soul (for I want to keep my head clearer), but I'm 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'd be more—more—" "More courteous, if you want," Carlton reminded he. "Yeah, yeah! Let's say I'm courteous. And I'm a man," Stryver boasted as his friend bartended. "I like to be popular with women, and I'm willing to Work hard and know what to do. Much better than you."

"Go on," said Sidney Carton. "No, before I go on," said Stryver, shaking his head victoriously, "I must tell you something. You hang out at Dr. Manette's as often as I do, and you probably Going a lot, but you're always so sad there, I'm so sorry for you. You're always silent and listless like a doormat, and I swear on my life and soul, I feel for you Shame on you, Sidney!"

"You'll feel ashamed, too, which is a good thing for a court worker like you," Sidney replied. "You should thank me!"

"But how could you just slip away like this," Stryver replied, but the subject was still on Sidney, "No, Sidney, I must tell you—to help you, I will tell you directly , you will be ashamed when you associate with such a person. You are not very popular!"

Sidney drank a lot of Wuweijiu, which he made himself, and smiled. "Look at me!" Stryver said, puffing out his chest. "My current condition makes me more independent. I don't have to be popular like you. But why do I need to be popular?"

"I don't see much popularity with you," murmured Carton. "I did it out of strategy and for a reason. Look at me now, thriving."

"You're not going to prosper in your present marriage," Carlton said nonchalantly. "I hope you will continue to be popular. 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 comfort in his tone. "I don't have to, I know that," said Sidney Carton. "Who is your lady?" "Don't be ashamed of my announcement, Sidney," said Mr. Stryver. , he wanted the other party to listen to what he was about to announce in a friendly manner. "Because I know that you don't take half of what you say to yourself seriously, even if you take all of it, it doesn't matter, so I will start with a little introduction. You once said something that you despised this lady in front of me."

"Really?" "Sure, and in this room."

Sidney Carton looked at the five-flavored wine, at his complacent friend.He drank all the five-flavored wine, and looked at his complacent friend again.

"The girl is Miss Manette, and you used to say she was a fair-haired rag doll. If you were a sensible person at this point, Sidney, I'd be offended at saying that to you. But you're not a A careful person completely lacks that kind of experience, so I don't care, just like I don't care what a person who doesn't know how to appreciate a painting has an opinion on my paintings, or a person who doesn't know how to appreciate music has an opinion on my music Same."

Sidney Carton drank non-stop--watched his friend go on drinking.

"Now you know all about it, Sidney," said Mr. Stryver. "I don't mind what her fortune is, she's a lovely girl, and I've made up my mind to make myself happy. Anyhow, I thinks I have what it takes to be happy. She married me as if she were marrying a rich man, a man who is rising fast, a man of prestige: it is an honor to her, and she just deserves it. It's an honor. Are you surprised?"

Carlton, still drinking Wuweijiu, replied, "Why should I be surprised?"

"Do you agree?" Carlton replied, still drinking Wuweijiu, "Why don't I agree?"

"Well!" said his friend Stryver, "you are more relaxed than I thought, and less mercenary than I supposed, though you act like a man of strong will. Yes, Sidney, I I've lived with this way of life long enough - I can't even think of a different way of life. I think it's nice to have a home to go back to if you want to (you can stay out if you don't want to) and I felt that Miss Manette would be useful and respectable to me everywhere. So I made up my mind. Now, Sidney, old man, I want to say something to you and your future. Sentence. You know you're in a bad place, you are. You don't know what money is. You've had a hard time, and you're going to be bruised and broke before long, and then you're broke. You should really think about getting a nanny."

The condescending tone in which he spoke was twice as condescending as it had seemed before, and it repelled him four times as much.

"Now, let me give you an idea," went on Stryver, "you have to accept reality. I am a man who faces reality, but in a different way. You have your way, and you have to accept reality. Marry Come on! That way someone can take care of you. You don't like to deal with women, don't understand women, and can't deal with women, don't take it seriously. Find someone you can get along with. Find a decent woman with some money—a woman Boss, or landlady or something—marry her and save yourself. That's all you have. Think about it, Sidney."

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

(End of this chapter)