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第10章

a tale of two cities(双城记)-第10章

小说: a tale of two cities(双城记) 字数: 每页4000字

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k towards the door; and his face towards the window where the keeper of the wine…shop stood looking at him; a white…haired man sat on a low bench; stooping forward and very busy; making shoes。 
CHAPTER VI
The Shoemaker
‘GOOD DAY!' said Monsieur Defarge; looking down at he white head that bent low over the shoemaking。 
 It was raised for a moment; and a very faint voice responded to the salutation; as if it were at a distance: 
 ‘Good day!' 
 ‘You are still hard at work; I see?' 
 After a long silence; the head was lifted for another moment; and the voice replied; ‘YesI am working。' This time; a pair of haggard eyes had looked at the questioner; before the face had dropped again。 
 The faintness of the voice was pitiable and dreadful。 It was not the faintness of physical weakness; though confinement and hard fare no doubt had their part in it。 Its deplorable peculiarity was; that it was the faintness of solitude and disuse。 It was like the last feeble echo of a sound made long and long ago。 So entirely had it lost the life and resonance of the human voice; that it affected the senses like a once beautiful colour faded away into a poor weak stain。 So sunken and suppressed it was; that it was like a voice under…ground。 So expressive it was; of a hopeless and lost creature; that a famished traveller; wearied Out by lonely wandering in a wilderness; would have remembered home and friends in such a tone before lying down to die。 
 Some minutes of silent work had passed: and the haggard eyes had looked up again: not with any interest or curiosity; but with a dull mechanical perception; beforehand; that the spot where the only visitor they were aware of had stood; was not yet empty。 
 ‘I want;' said Defarge; who had not removed his gaze from the shoemaker; ‘to let in a little more light here。 You can bear a little more?' 
 The shoemaker stopped his work; looked with a vacant air of listening; at the floor on one side of him; then similarly; at the floor on the other side of him; then; upward at the speaker。 
 ‘What did you say?' 
 ‘You can bear a little more light?' 
 ‘I must bear it; if you let it in。' (Laying the palest shadow of a stress upon the second word。) 
 The opened half…door was opened a little further; and secured at that angle for the time。 A broad ray of light fell into the garret; and showed the workman with an un…finished shoe upon his lap; pausing in his labour。 His few common tools and various scraps of leather were at his feet and on his bench。 He had a white beard; raggedly cut; but not very long; a hollow face; and exceedingly bright eyes。 The hollowness and thinness of his face would have caused them to look large; under his yet dark eyebrows and his confused white hair; though they had been really otherwise; but; they were naturally large; and looked un…naturally so。 His yellow rags of shirt lay open at the throat; and showed his body to be withered and worn。 He; and his old canvas frock; and his loose stockings; and all his poor tatters of clothes; had; in a long seclusion from direct light and air; faded down to such a dull uniformity of parchment…yellow; that it would have been hard to say which was which。 
 He had put up a hand between his eyes and the light; and the very bones of it seemed transparent。 So he sat; with a steadfastly vacant gaze; pausing in his work。 He never looked at the figure before him; without first looking down on this side of himself; then on that; as if he had lost the habit of associating place with sound; he never spoke; without first pandering in this manner; and forgetting to speak。 
 ‘Are you going to finish that pair of shoes to…day?' asked Defarge; motioning to Mr。 Lorry to come forward。 
 ‘What did you say?' 
 ‘Do you mean to finish that pair of shoes to…day?' ‘I can't say that I mean to。 I suppose so。 I don't know。' 
 But; the question reminded him of his work; and he bent over it again。 
 Mr。 Lorry came silently forward; leaving the daughter by the door。 When he had stood; for a minute or two; by the side of Defarge; the shoemaker looked up。 He showed no surprise at seeing another figure; but the unsteady fingers of one of his hands strayed to his lips as he looked at it (his lips and his nails were of the same pale lead…colour); and then the hand dropped to his work; and he once more bent over the shoe。 The look and the action had occupied but an instant。 
 ‘You have a visitor; you see;' said Monsieur Defarge。 
 ‘What did you say?' 
 ‘Here is a visitor。' 
 The shoemaker looked up as before; but without removing a hand from his work。 
 ‘Come!' said Defarge。 ‘Here is monsieur; who knows a well…made shoe when he sees one。 Show him that shoe you are working at。 Take it; monsieur。' 
 Mr。 Lorry took it in his hand。 
 ‘Tell monsieur what kind of shoe it is; and the maker's name。' 
 There was a longer pause than usual; before the shoe…maker replied: 
 ‘I forget what it was you asked me。 What did you say?' 
 ‘I said; couldn't you describe the kind of shoe; for monsieur's information?' 
 ‘It is a lady's shoe。 It is a young lady's walking…shoe。 It is in the present mode。 I never saw the mode。 I have had a pattern in my hand。' He glanced at the shoe with some little passing touch of pride。 
 ‘And the maker's name?' said Defarge。 
 Now that he had no work to hold; he laid the knuckles of the right hand in the hollow of the left; and then the knuckles of the left hand in the hollow of the right; and then passed a hand across his bearded chin; and so on in regular changes; without a moment's intermission。 The task of recalling him from the vacancy into which he always sank when he had spoken; was like recalling some very weak person from a swoon; or endeavouring; in the hope of some disclosure; to stay the spirit of a fast…dying man。 
 ‘Did you ask me for my name?' 
 ‘Assuredly I did。' 
 ‘One Hundred and Five; North Tower。' 
 ‘Is that all?' 
 ‘One Hundred and Five; North Tower。' 
 With a weary sound that was not a sigh; nor a groan; he bent to work again; until the silence was again broken。 
 ‘You are not a shoemaker by trade?' said Mr。 Lorry; looking steadfastly at him。 
 His haggard eyes turned to Defarge as if he would have transferred the question to him: but as no help came from that quarter; they turned back on the questioner when they had sought the ground。 
 ‘I am not a shoemaker by trade? No; I was not a shoe…maker by trade。 II learn't it here。 I taught myself。 I asked leave to…' 
 He lapsed away; even for minutes; ringing those measured changes on his hands the whole time。 His eyes came slowly back; at last; to the face from which they had wandered; when they rested on it; he started; and resumed; in the manner of a sleeper that moment awake; reverting to a subject of last night。 
 ‘I asked leave to teach myself; and I got it with much difficulty after a long while; and I have made shoes ever since。' 
 As he held out his hand for the shoe that had been taken from him; Mr。 Lorry said; still looking steadfastly in his face: 
 ‘Monsieur Manette; do you remember nothing of me?' 
 The shoe dropped to the ground; and he sat looking fixedly at the questioner。 
 ‘Monsieur Manette;' Mr。 Lorry laid his hand upon Defarge's arm; ‘do you remember nothing of this man? Look at him。 Look at me。 Is there no old banker; no old business; no old servant; no old time; rising in your mind; Monsieur Manette?' 
 As the captive of many years sat looking fixedly; by turns; at Mr。 Lorry and at Defarge; some long obliterated marks of an actively intent intelligence in the middle of the fore…head; gradually forced themselves through the black mist that had fallen on him。 They were overclouded again; they were fainter; they were gone; but they had been there。 And so exactly was the expression repeated on the fair young face of her who had crept along the wall to a point where she could see him; and where she now stood looking at him; with hands which at first had been only raised in frightened compassion; if not even to keep him off and shut out the sight of him; but which were now extending towards him; trembling with eagerness to lay the spectral face upon her warm young breast; and love it back to life and hopeso exactly was the expression repeated (though in str

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