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have laid me under an obligation to you for life-in two senses,”
said his late client, taking his hand.

“I have done my best for you, Mr. Darnay; and my best is as good
as another man’s, I believe.” It clearly being incumbent on some
one to say, “Much better,” Mr. Lorry said it; perhaps not quite
disinterestedly, but with the interested object of squeezing himself
back again.

“You think so?” said Mr. Stryver. “Well! you have been present all
day, and you ought to know. You are a man of business, too.”
“And as such,” quoth Mr. Lorry, whom the counsel learned in the
law had now shouldered back into the group, just as he had
previously shouldered him out of it-“as such I will appeal to
Doctor Manette, to break up this conference and order us all to our
homes. Miss Lucie looks ill, Mr. Darnay has had a terrible day, we
are worn out.” “Speak for yourself, Mr. Lorry,” said Stryver; “I
have a night’s work to do yet. Speak for yourself.” “I speak for
myself,” answered Mr. Lorry, “and for Mr. Darnay, and for Miss
Lucie, and-Miss Lucie, do you not think I may speak for us all?”
He asked her the question pointedly, and with a glance at her

His face had become frozen, as it were, in a very curious look at
Darnay; an intent look, deepening into a frown of dislike and
distrust, not even unmixed with fear. With this strange expression
on him his thoughts had wandered away.

“My father,” said Lucie, softly laying her hand on his.
He slowly shook the shadow off, and turned to her.
“Shall we go home, my father?” With a long breath, he answered

The friends of the acquitted prisoner had dispersed, under the
impressionwhich he himself had originated-that he would not be
released that night. The lights were nearly all extinguished in the
passages, the iron gates were being closed with a jar and a rattle,
and the dismal place was deserted until to-morrow morning’s
interest of gallows, pillory, whipping-post, and branding-iron,
should repeople it. Walking between her father and Mr. Darnay,
Lucie Manette passed into the open air. A hackney-coach was
called, and the father and daughter departed in it.

Mr. Stryver had left them in the passages, to shoulder his way back
to the robing-room. Another person, who had not joined the group,
or interchanged a word with any one of them, but who had been
leaning against the wall where its shadow was darkest, had silently
strolled out after the rest, and had looked on until the coach drove
away. He now stepped up to where Mr. Lorry and Mr. Darnay
stood upon the pavement.
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