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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."