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Occasionally, a stray workman putting his coat on, traversed the

hall, or a stranger peered about there, or a distant clink was

heard across the courtyard, or a thump from the golden giant.

These, however, were only the exceptions required to prove the

rule that the sparrows in the plane-tree behind the house, and

the echoes in the corner before it, had their own way from Sunday

morning unto Saturday night.

Doctor Manette received such patients here as his old reputation,

and its revival in the floating whispers of his story, brought

him. His scientific knowledge, and his vigilance and skill in

conducting ingenious experiments, brought him otherwise into

moderate request, and he earned as much as he wanted.

These things were within Mr. Jarvis Lorry's knowledge, thoughts,

and notice, when he rang the door-bell of the tranquil house in

the corner, on the fine Sunday afternoon.

"Doctor Manette at home?"

Expected home.

"Miss Lucie at home?"

Expected home.

"Miss Pross at home?"