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Автор: Charles Dickens

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The nervousness and dread that were upon him inspired that vague
uneasiness respecting the Bank, which a great change would
naturally awaken, with such feelings roused. It was well guarded,
and he got up to go among the trusty people who were watching it,
when his door suddenly opened, and two figures rushed in, at
sight of which he fell back in amazement.
Lucie and her father! Lucie with her arms stretched out to him,
and with that old look of earnestness so concentrated and
intensified, that it seemed as though it had been stamped upon
her face expressly to give force and power to it in this one
passage of her life.
"What is this?" cried Mr. Lorry, breathless and confused. "What
is the matter? Lucie! Manette! What has happened? What has
brought you here? What is it?"
With the look fixed upon him, in her paleness and wildness, she
panted out in his arms, imploringly, "O my dear friend! My
husband!"
"Your husband, Lucie?"
"Charles."
"What of Charles?"
"Here.
"Here, in Paris?"

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