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For such variety of reasons, Tellson's was at that time, as to

French intelligence, a kind of High Exchange; and this was so

well known to the public, and the inquiries made there were in

consequence so numerous, that Tellson's sometimes wrote the

latest news out in a line or so and posted it in the Bank

windows, for all who ran through Temple Bar to read.

On a steaming, misty afternoon, Mr. Lorry sat at his desk, and

Charles Darnay stood leaning on it, talking with him in a low

voice. The penitential den once set apart for interviews with the

House, was now the news-Exchange, and was filled to overflowing.

It was within half an hour or so of the time of closing.

"But, although you are the youngest man that ever lived," said

Charles Darnay, rather hesitating, "I must still suggest to

you--"

"I understand. That I am too old?" said Mr. Lorry.

"Unsettled weather, a long journey, uncertain means of

travelling, a disorganised country, a city that may not be even

safe for you."