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Toetsenbord

Pagina 738 van 896

Auteur: Charles Dickens

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"See what a place you fill at seventy-eight. How many people will
miss you when you leave it empty!"
"A solitary old bachelor," answered Mr. Lorry, shaking his head.
"There is nobody to weep for me."
"How can you say that? Wouldn't She weep for you? Wouldn't her
child?"
"Yes, yes, thank God. I didn't quite mean what I said."
"It is a thing to thank God for; is it not?"
"Surely, surely."
"If you could say, with truth, to your own solitary heart,
to-night, 'I have secured to myself the love and attachment, the
gratitude or respect, of no human creature; I have won myself a
tender place in no regard; I have done nothing good or
serviceable to be remembered by!' your seventy-eight years would
be seventy-eight heavy curses; would they not?"
"You say truly, Mr. Carton; I think they would be."
Sydney turned his eyes again upon the fire, and, after a silence
of a few moments, said:

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