Lingue

Tastiera

Pagina 813 di 896

Autore: Charles Dickens

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He waited and waited, and the clock struck twelve; but Doctor
Manette did not come back. Mr. Lorry returned, and found no
tidings of him, and brought none. Where could he be?
They were discussing this question, and were almost building up
some weak structure of hope on his prolonged absence, when they
heard him on the stairs. The instant he entered the room, it was
plain that all was lost.
Whether he had really been to any one, or whether he had been all
that time traversing the streets, was never known. As he stood
staring at them, they asked him no question, for his face told
them everything.
"I cannot find it," said he, "and I must have it. Where is it?"
His head and throat were bare, and, as he spoke with a helpless
look straying all around, he took his coat off, and let it drop
on the floor.
"Where is my bench? I have been looking everywhere for my bench,
and I can't find it. What have they done with my work? Time
presses: I must finish those shoes."

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