knew how. But I don’t know how to originate, in such a case. If

your sagacity, knowledge, and experience, could put me on the

right track, I might be able to do so much; unenlightened and

undirected, I can do so little. Pray discuss it with me; pray enable

me to see it a little more clearly, and teach me how to be a little

more useful.”

Doctor Manette sat meditating after these earnest words were

spoken, and Mr. Lorry did not press him.

“I think it probable,” said the Doctor, breaking silence with an

effort, “that the relapse you have described, my dear friend, was

not quite unforeseen by its subject.”

“Was it dreaded by him?” Mr. Lorry ventured to ask.

“Very much.” He said it with an involuntary shudder.

“You have no idea how such an apprehension weighs on the

sufferer’s mind, and how difficulthow almost impossibleit is,

for him to force himself to utter a word upon the topic that

oppresses him.”

“Would he,” asked Mr. Lorry, “be sensibly relieved if he could

prevail upon himself to impart that secret brooding to any one,

when it is on him?”

“I think so. But it is, as I told you, next to impossible. I even

believe itin some casesto be quite impossible.”

“Now,” said Mr. Lorry, gently laying his hand on the Doctor’s

arm again, after a short silence on both sides, “to what would you

refer this attack?”

“I believe,” returned Doctor Manette, “that there had been a

strong and extraordinary revival of the train of thought and

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

remembrance that was the first cause of the malady. Some intense

associations of the most distressing nature were vividly recalled, I

think. It is probable that there had long been a dread lurking in

his mind, that those associations would be recalledsay, under

certain circumstancessay, on a particular occasion. He tried to

prepare himself in vain; perhaps the effort to prepare himself

made him less able to bear it.”

“Would he remember what took place in the relapse?” asked

Mr. Lorry with natural hesitation.

The Doctor looked desolately round the room, shook his head,

and answered, in a low voice, “Not at all.”

“Now, as to the future,” hinted Mr. Lorry.

“As to the future,” said the Doctor, recovering firmness, “I

should have great hope. As it pleased Heaven in its mercy to

restore him so soon, I should have great hope. He, yielding under

the pressure of a complicated something, long dreaded and long

vaguely foreseen and contended against, and recovering after the

cloud had burst and passed, I should hope the worst was over.”

“Well, well! That’s good comfort. I am thankful!” said Mr.

Lorry.

“I am thankful!” repeated the Doctor, bending his head with

reverence.