shoemaker’s white

locks in the Paris garret, were mingled with them again in the

morning sunlight, on the threshold of the door at parting.

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

It was a hard parting, though it was not for long. But her father

cheered her, and said at last, gently disengaging himself from her

enfolding arms, “Take her, Charles! She is yours!”

And her agitated hand waved to them from a chaise window,

and she was gone.

The corner being out of the way of the idle and curious, and the

preparations having been very simple and few, the Doctor, Mr.

Lorry, and Miss Pross, were left quite alone. It was when they

turned into the welcome shade of the cool old hall, that Mr. Lorry

observed a great change to have come over the Doctor; as if the

golden arm uplifted there, had struck him a poisoned blow.

He had naturally repressed much, and some revulsion might

have been expected in him when the occasion for repression was

gone. But, it was the old scared lost look that troubled Mr. Lorry;

and through his absent manner of clasping his head and drearily

wandering away into his own room when they got upstairs, Mr.

Lorry was reminded of Defarge the wine-shop keeper, and the

starlight ride.

“I think,” he whispered to Miss Pross, after anxious

consideration, “I think we had best not speak to him just now, or

at all di