A Tale of Two Cities and Great Expectations (Oprah's Book Club) Read Online Free PDF Page A

in deep graves of black mahogany, and no light to speak of could be expected from them until they were dug out.
    The obscurity was so difficult to penetrate that Mr Lorry, picking his way over the well-worn Turkey carpet, supposed Miss Manette to be, for the moment, in some adjacent room, until, having got past the two tall candles, he saw standing to receive him by the table between them and the fire, a young lady of not more than seventeen, in a riding-cloak, and still holding her straw travelling-hat by its ribbon, in her hand. As his eyes rested on a short, slight-pretty figure, a quantity of golden hair, a pair of blue eyes that met his own with an inquiring look, and a forehead with a singular capacity (remembering how young and smooth it was), of lifting and knitting itself into an expression that was not quite one of perplexity, or wonder, or alarm, or merely of a bright fixed attention, though it included all the four expressions – as his eyes rested on these things, a sudden vivid likeness passed before him, of a child whom he had held in his arms on the passage across that very Channel, one cold time, when the hail drifted heavily and the sea ran high. The likeness passed away, say, like a breath along the surface of the gaunt pier-glass behind her, on the frame of which, a hospital procession of negro cupids, several headless and all cripples, were offering black baskets of Dead-Sea fruit to black divinities of the feminine gender – and he made his formal bow to Miss Manette. ‘Pray take a seat, sir.’ In a very clear and pleasant young voice: a little foreign in its accent, but a very little indeed. ‘I kiss your hand, miss,’ said Mr Lorry, with the manners of an earlier date, as he made his formal bow again, and took his seat. ‘I received a letter from the Bank, sir, yesterday, informing me that some new intelligence – or discovery—’
    ‘The word is not material, miss; either word will do.’
    ‘ – respecting the small property of my poor father whom I never saw – so long dead—’
    Mr Lorry moved in his chair, and cast a troubled look towards the hospital procession of negro cupids. As if they had any help for anybody in their absurd baskets!
    ‘ – rendered it necessary that I should go to Paris there to communicate with a gentleman of the Bank, so good as to be despatched to Paris for the purpose.’
    ‘Myself.’
    ‘As I was prepared to hear, sir.’
    She curtseyed to him (young ladies made curtseys in those days), with a pretty desire to convey to him that she felt how much older and wiser he was than she. He made her another bow.
    ‘I replied to the Bank, sir, that as it was considered necessary, by those who know, and who are so kind as to advise me, that I should go to France, and that as I am an orphan and have no friend who could go with me, I should esteem it highly if I might be permitted to place myself, during the journey, under that worthy gentleman’s protection. The gentleman had left London, but I think a messenger was sent after him to beg the favour of his waiting for me here.’
    ‘I was happy,’ said Mr Lorry, ‘to be entrusted with the charge. I shall be more happy to execute it.’
    ‘Sir, I thank you indeed. I thank you very gratefully. It was told me by the Bank that the gentleman would explain to me the details of the business, and that I must prepare myself to find them of a surprising nature. I have done my best to prepare myself, and I naturally have a strong and eager interest to know what they are.’
    ‘Naturally,’ said Mr Lorry. ‘Yes – I—’
    After a pause, he added, again settling the crisp flaxen wig at the ears:
    ‘It is very difficult to begin.’
    He did not begin, but, in his indecision, met her glance. The young forehead lifted itself into that singular expression – but it was pretty and characteristic, besides being singular – and she raised her hand, as if with an involuntary action she caught at, or stayed, some passing