out of work. Mr. Lorry had been idle a long time, and had just

poured out his last glassful of wine with as complete an

appearance of satisfaction as is ever to be found in an elderly

gentleman of a fresh complexion who has got to the end of a bottle,

when a rattling of wheels came up the narrow street, and rumbled

into the inn-yard.

He set down his glass untouched. “This is Mam’selle!” he said.

In a very few minutes the waiter came in to announce that Miss

Manette had arrived from London, and would be happy to see the

gentleman from Tellson’s.

“So soon?”

Miss Manette had taken some refreshment on the road, and

required none then, and was extremely anxious to see the

gentleman from Tellson’s immediately, if it suited his pleasure and

convenience.

The gentleman from Tellson’s had nothing left for it but to

empty his glass with an air of stolid desperation, settle his odd

little flaxen wig at the ears, and follow the waiter to Miss Manette’s

apartment. It was a large, dark room, furnished in a funereal

manner with black horsehair, and loaded with heavy dark tables.

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

These had been oiled and oiled, until the two tall candles on the

table in the middle of the room were gloomily reflected on every

leaf; as if they were buried, in deep graves of black mahogany, and

no light to