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Yazar: Charles Dickens

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"I have delivered that letter," said Charles Darnay to Mr. Lorry.
"I would not consent to your being charged with any written
answer, but perhaps you will take a verbal one?"
"That I will, and readily," said Mr. Lorry, "if it is not
dangerous."
"Not at all. Though it is to a prisoner in the Abbaye."
"What is his name?" said Mr. Lorry, with his open pocket-book in
his hand.
"Gabelle."
"Gabelle. And what is the message to the unfortunate Gabelle in
prison?"
"Simply, 'that he has received the letter, and will come.'"
"Any time mentioned?"
"He will start upon his journey to-morrow night."
"Any person mentioned?"
"No."
He helped Mr. Lorry to wrap himself in a number of coats and
cloaks, and went out with him from the warm atmosphere of the old
Bank, into the misty air of Fleet-street. "My love to Lucie, and
to little Lucie," said Mr. Lorry at parting, "and take precious
care of them till I come back." Charles Darnay shook his head and
doubtfully smiled, as the carriage rolled away.

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