"My dear Mr. Lorry, it is because I am a Frenchman born, that the thought (which I did not mean to utter here, however) has passed through my mind often.
One cannot help thinking, having had some sympathy for the miserable people, and having abandoned something to them," he spoke here in his former thoughtful manner, "that one might be listened to, and might have the power to persuade to some restraint.
Only last night, after you had left us, when I was talking to Lucie-"
"When you were talking to Lucie," Mr. Lorry repeated. "Yes. I wonder you are not ashamed to mention the name of Lucie! Wishing you were going to France at this time of day!"
"However, I am not going," said Charles Darnay, with a smile. "It is more to the purpose that you say you are."
"And I am, in plain reality.
The truth is, my dear Charles," Mr. Lorry glanced at the distant House, and lowered his voice, "you can have no conception of the difficulty with which our business is transacted, and of the peril in which our books and papers over yonder are involved.
The Lord above knows what the compromising consequences would be to numbers of people, if some of our documents were seized or destroyed; and they might be, at any time, you know, for who can say that Paris is not set afire to-day, or sacked to-morrow! Now, a judicious selection from these with the least possible delay, and the burying of them, or otherwise getting of them out of harm's way, is within the power (without loss of precious time) of scarcely any one but myself, if any one.
And shall I hang back, when Tellson's knows this and says this-Tellson's, whose bread I have eaten these sixty years-because I am a little stiff about the joints? Why, I am a boy, sir, to half a dozen old codgers here!"
"How I admire the gallantry of your youthful spirit, Mr. Lorry."