Книга · A Tale of Two Cities
Страница 182 из 896
Автор: Charles Dickens
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He said it bitterly, and filled up his glass again: which was a
large one.
"As to me, the greatest desire I have, is to forget that I belong
to it. It has no good in it for me--except wine like this--nor I
for it. So we are not much alike in that particular. Indeed, I
begin to think we are not much alike in any particular, you and
I."
Confused by the emotion of the day, and feeling his being there
with this Double of coarse deportment, to be like a dream,
Charles Darnay was at a loss how to answer; finally, answered not
at all.
"Now your dinner is done," Carton presently said, "why don't you
call a health, Mr. Darnay; why don't you give your toast?"
"What health? What toast?"
"Why, it's on the tip of your tongue. It ought to be, it must be,
I'll swear it's there."
"Miss Manette, then!"
"Miss Manette, then!"
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