Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

Chapter XXXIX

THE GAME MADE

W

hile Sydney Carton and the Sheep of the prisons were

in the adjoining dark room, speaking so low that not a

sound was heard, Mr. Lorry looked at Jerry in

considerable doubt and mistrust. That honest tradesman’s

manner of receiving the look, did not inspire confidence; he

changed the leg on which he rested, as often as if he had fifty of

those limbs, and were trying them all; he examined his finger-nails

with a very questionable closeness of attention; and whenever Mr.

Lorry’s eye caught his, he was taken with that peculiar kind of

short cough requiring the hollow of a hand before it, which is

seldom, if ever, known to be an infirmity attendant on perfect

openness of character.

“Jerry,” said Mr. Lorry. “Come here.”

Mr. Cruncher came forward sideways, with one of his shoulders

in advance of him.

“What have you been, besides a messenger?”

After some cogitation, accompanied with an intent look at his

patron, Mr. Cruncher conceived the luminous idea of replying,

“Agricultooral character.”

“My mind misgives me much,” said Mr. Lorry, angrily shaking

a forefinger at him, “that you have used the respectable and great

house of Tellson’s as a blind, and that you have had an unlawful

occupation of an infamous description. If you have, don’t expect

me to befriend you when you get back to England. If you have,

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

don’t expect me to keep your secret. Tellson’s shall not be imposed

upon.”

“I hope, sir,” pleaded the abashed Mr. Cruncher, “that a

gentleman like yourself wot I’ve had the honour of odd jobbing till

I’m grey at it, would think twice about harming of me, even if it

wos soI don’t say it is, but even if it wos. And which it is to be

took into account that if it wos, it wouldn’t, even then, be all o’ one

side. There’d be two sides to it. There might be medical doctors at

the present hour, a picking up their guineas where a honest

tradesman don’t pick up his fardensfardens! no, nor yet his half

fardenshalf fardens! no, nor yet his quartera banking away

like smoke at Tellson’s, and a cocking their medical eyes at that

tradesman on the sly, going in and out to their own carriagesah!

equally like smoke, if not more so. Well, that ’ud be imposing too,

on Tellson’s. For you cannot sarse the goose and not the gander.

And here’s Mrs. Cruncher, or leastways wos in the Old England

times, and would be tomorrow, if cause given, a floppin agin the

business to that degree as is ruinatingstark ruinating! Whereas

them medical doctors’ wives don’t flopcatch ’em at it! Or, if they

flop, their floppin goes in favour of more patients, and how can

you rightly have one without the t’other? Then, wot with