`SYDNEY,' said Mr. Stryver, on that self-same night, or morning, to his jackal; `mix another bowl of punch; I have something to say to you.'

Sydney had been working double tides that night, and the night before, and the night before that, and a good many nights in succession, making a grand clearance among Mr. Stryver's papers before the setting in of the long vacation. The clearance was effected at last; the Stryver arrears were handsomely fetched up; everything was got rid of until November should come with its fogs atmospheric and fogs legal, and bring grist to the mill again.

Sydney was none the livelier and none the soberer for so much application. It had taken a deal of extra wet-towelling to pull him through the night; a correspondingly extra quantity of wine had preceded the towelling; and he was in a very damaged condition, as he now pulled his turban off and threw it into the basin in which he had steeped it at intervals for the last six hours.

`Are you mixing that other bowl of punch?' said Stryver the portly, with his hands in his waistband, glancing round from the sofa where he lay on his back,

`I am.'

`Now, look here! I am going to tell you something that will rather surprise you, and that perhaps will make you think me not quite as shrewd as you usually do think me. I intend to marry.

`Do you?'    

`Yes. And not for money. What do you say now?'

`I don't feel disposed to say much. Who is she?'

`Guess.'

`Do I know her?'

`Guess.'

`I am not going to guess, at five o'clock in the morning, with my brains frying and sputtering in my, head. If you want me to guess, you must ask me to dinner.

`Well then, I'll tell you,' said Stryver, coming slowly into a sitting posture. `Sydney, I rather despair of making myself intelligible to you, because you are such an insensible dog.'

`And you,' returned Sydney, busy concocting the punch, `are such a sensitive and poetical spirit.'

`Come!' rejoined Stryver, laughing boastfully, `though I don't prefer any claim to being the soul of Romance (for I hope I, know better), still I am a tenderer sort of fellow than you.

`You are a luckier, if you mean that.'

`I don't mean that. I mean I am a man of more--more---'

`Say gallantry, while you are about it,' suggested Carton.

`Well! I'll say gallantry. My meaning is that I am a man,' said Stryver, inflating himself at his friend as he made the punch, `who cares more to be agreeable, Who takes more pains to be agreeable, who knows better how to be agreeable, in a woman's society, than you do.'

`Go on,' said Sydney Carton.

`No; but before I go on,' said Stryver, shaking his head in his bullying way, `I'll have this out with you. You've been at Dr. Manette's house as much as I have, or more than I have. Why, I have been ashamed of your moroseness there! Your manners have been of that silent and sullen and hang-dog kind, that, upon my life and soul, I have been ashamed of you, Sydney!'

`It should be very beneficial to a man in your practice at the bar, to be ashamed of anything,' returned Sydney; `you ought to be much obliged to me.

`You shall not get off in that Way,' rejoined Stryver, shouldering the rejoinder at him; `no, Sydney, it's my duty to tell you--and I tell you to your face to do you good--that you are a devilish ill-conditioned fellow in that sort of society. You are a disagreeable fellow.'

Sydney drank a bumper of the punch he had made, and laughed.

`Look at me!' said Stryver, squaring himself: `I have less need to make myself agreeable than you have, being more independent in circumstances. Why do I do it?'

`I never saw you do it yet,' muttered Carton.

`I do it because it's politic; I do it on principle. And look at me! I get on.'

`You don't get on with your account of your matrimonial intentions,' answered Carton, with a careless air; `I wish you would keep to that. As to me--will you never understand that I am incorrigible?'

He asked the question with some appearance of scorn.

`You have no business to be incorrigible,' was his friend's answer, delivered in no very soothing tone.

`I have no business to be, at all, that I know of,' said Sydney Carton. `Who is the lady?'

`Now, don't let my announcement of the name make you uncomfortable, Sydney,' said Mr. Stryver, preparing him with ostentatious friendliness for the disclosure he was about to make, `because I know you don't mean half you say; and if you meant it all, it would be of no importance. I make this little preface, because,you once mentioned the young lady to me in slighting terms.

`I did?'

`Certainly; and in these chambers.'

Sydney Carton looked at his punch and looked at his complacent friend; drank his punch and looked at his complacent friend.

`You made mention of the young lady as a golden-haired doll. The young lady is Miss Manette. If you had been a fellow of any sensitiveness or delicacy of feeling in that kind of way, Sydney, I might have been a little resentful of your employing such a designation; but you are not. You want that sense altogether; therefore I am no more annoyed when I think of the expression, than I should be annoyed by a man's opinion of a picture of mine, who had no eye for pictures: or of a piece of music of mine, who had no ear for music.'

Sydney Carton drank the punch at a great rate; drank it by bumpers, looking at his friend.

`Now you know all about it, Syd,' said Mr. Stryver. `I don't care about fortune: she is a charming creature, and I have made up my mind to please myself: on the whole, I think I can afford to please myself. She will have in me a man already pretty well off and a rapidly rising man, and a man of some distinction: it is a piece of good fortune for her, but she is worthy of good fortune. Are you astonished?'

Carton, still drinking the punch, rejoined, `Why should I be astonished?'

`You approve?'

Carton, still drinking the punch, rejoined, `Why should I not approve?' `Well!' said his friend Stryver, `you take it more easily than I fancied you would, and are less mercenary on my behalf than I thought you would be; though, to be sure, you know well enough by this time that your ancient chum is a man of a pretty strong will. Yes, Sydney, I have had enough of this style of life, with no other as a change iron' it; I feel that it is a pleasant thing for a man to have a home when he feels inclined to go to it (when he doesn't, he can stay away), and I feel that Miss Manette will tell well in any station, and will always do me credit. So I
have made up my mind. And now, Sydney, old boy, I want to say a word to you about your prospects. You are in a bad way, you know; you really are in a bad way. You don't know the value of money, you live hard, you'll knock up one of these days, and be ill and poor; you really ought to think about a nurse.

The prosperous patronage with which he said it, made him look twice as big as he was, and four times as offensive.

`Now, let me recommend you,' pursued Stryver, `to look it in the face. I have looked it in the face, in my different way; look it in the face, you, in your different way. Marry. Provide somebody to take care of you. Never mind your having no enjoyment of women's society, nor understanding of it, nor tact for it. Find out somebody. Find out some respectable woman with a little property--somebody in the landlady way, or lodging-letting way--and marry her, against a rainy day. That's the kind of thing for you. Now think of it, Sydney.'

`I'll think of it,' said Sydney.

“西德尼，”就在那天晚上或是次日凌晨，斯特莱佛先生对他的豺狗说，“再调一碗五味酒，我要告诉你一件事。”

那天晚上，前一天晚上，再前一天晚上和那以前的许多晚上西德尼都曾加班加点，要赶在大假日到来之前把斯特莱佛的文件处理完毕。文件终于处理完毕了，斯特莱佛积压的工作全部漂漂亮亮告了个段落，只等着十一月份带着它气象上的云雾和法律上的云雾，也带着送上门的业务到来。

西德尼用了多次冷敷，可精神仍然不好，头脑仍然不清。他是靠使用了大量的湿毛巾才熬过了这一夜的。在用湿毛巾之前，还喝了与之相应的特别多的葡萄酒，直弄得心力交瘁。现在他拉下了那“大头巾”扔进盆子里。六个小时以来他都不时在盆里浸毛巾。

“你在调另外一碗五味酒么？”大肚子的斯特莱佛两手插在腰带里，躺在沙发上，眼睛瞟着他。

“是。”

“现在听着，我要告诉你一件令你颇为惊讶的事，你也许会说我并不如你所想象的那么精明：我想结婚了。”

“你想？”

“是的。而且不是为了钱。现在你有什么意见？”

“我不想发表多少意见。对方是谁？”

“猜猜看。”

“我认识么？”

“猜猜看。”

“现在是早上五点钟，我的脑子像油煎一样噼噼啪啪乱响，我才不猜呢。要我猜，你得请我吃晚饭。”

“那好，那我就告评你，”斯特莱佛慢慢坐起身来说。“西德尼，我对自己相当失望，因为我不能让你理解我，因为你是这样一个迟钝的笨蛋。”

“可你呢，”西德尼一边忙着调五味酒，一边回答，“你却是这样一个敏感而有诗意的精灵。”

“听着！”斯特莱佛回答，夸耀地笑着，“我虽然不愿自命为罗曼斯的灵魂（因为我希望自己头脑更清醒），可总比你要温柔些，多情些。”

“你比我要幸运些，假如你是那意思的话。”

“我不是那意思。我的意思是我要更一—更——”

“更会献殷勤，只要你肯干，”卡尔顿提醒他。

“不错！就说是会献殷勤吧。我的意思是我是个男子汉，”斯特莱佛在他朋友调酒时吹嘘起自己来，“我很愿在女人堆里受人欢迎，而且很愿花功夫，也懂得怎样做。比你要强多了。”

“说下去，”西德尼.卡尔顿说。

“不，在我说下去之前，”斯特莱佛用他那居高临下的态度摇着头说，“我先得对你交代一句。你跟我一样常去曼内特医生家，也许比我去得还多，可你在那儿总那么忧郁，我真替你难为情。你总像个一言不发、没精打采的受气包，我以我的生命与灵魂发誓，我为你感到害躁，西德尼！”

“你也会感到害澡，这对像你这样的法庭工作人员倒是件大好事，”西德尼回答道，“你倒应该感谢我呢！”

“可你也不能就这样溜掉，”斯特莱佛回答，话锋仍转向西德尼，“不，西德尼，我有义务告诉你——为了帮助你，我要当而告诉你，你跟那样的人来往的时候简直丢脸透了。你这人很不受欢迎呢！”

西德尼喝下一大杯自己调的五味酒，笑了。

“你看看我！”斯特莱佛挺挺胸膛，说，“我的条件使我更加独立，不像你那样需要受人欢迎。可我干吗还需要受人欢迎呢？”

“我倒还没见过你受谁欢迎呢，”卡尔顿喃喃地说。

“我那样做是出于策略，出于原则。你看我，蒸蒸日上。”

“你并不会因为谈起你的婚姻打算而蒸蒸日上的，”卡尔顿满不在乎地回答。“我希望你继续受人欢迎。至于我么——你难道永远也不明白我是无可救药的？”

他带着嘲讽的神气问道。

“你没有必要无可救药，”他的朋友回答，并没有带多少安慰的口气。

“我没有必要，这我明白，”西德尼.卡尔顿说，“你那位小姐是谁？”

“我宣布了名字你可别感到难为情，西德尼，”斯特莱佛先生说，他想让对方拿出友好的态度欢迎他就要宣布的心事。“因为我知道你对自己说的话连一半也不当真，而且即使全部当真也并不重要，所以我就先来个小小的开场白。你有一次曾在我面前说过藐视这位小姐的话。”

“真的？”

“肯定，而且就在这屋里。”

西德尼.卡尔顿望了望五味酒，望了望他那得意扬扬的朋友。他喝光了五味酒，又望了望他那得意扬扬的朋友。

“那姑娘就是曼内特小姐，你曾说过她是个金发的布娃娃。如果你在这方面是个敏感细腻的人，西德尼，我对你那种说法是会生气的。可你是个粗线条，完全缺少那种体会，因此我并不在乎，正如我不会在乎一个不懂画的人对我的画发表的意见，或是一个不懂音乐的人对我的曲子发表意见一样。”

西德尼.卡尔顿迅速地喝着酒——望着他的朋友大口大口地喝着。

“现在你全知道了，西德尼，”斯特莱佛先生说，“我不在乎财产，她是个迷人的姑娘，我已下定了决心要让自己快乐。总之，我认为我有条件让自己快乐。她嫁给我就是嫁给一个殷实富裕的人、一个迅速上升的人、一个颇有声望的人：这对她是一种好运，而她又是配得上好运的。你大吃一惊了么？”

卡尔顿仍然喝着五味酒，回答道，“我为什么要大吃一惊？”

“你赞成么？”

卡尔顿仍然喝着五味酒，回答道，“我为什么要不赞成？”

“好！”他的朋友斯特莱佛说，“你比我估计的来得轻松，对我也不像我估计的那么唯利是图，尽管体现在无疑已很懂得你这个老哥儿们是个意志坚强的人。是的，西德尼，我对现在这种生活方式已经受够了——想换个法儿活都不行。我感到，要是想回家就有家可回是件挺快活的事（不想回去尽可以在外面呆着），而且我感到曼内特小姐在任何情况下都挺有用处，能绘我增添光彩。因此我才下定了决心。现在，西德尼，老伙计，我要对你和你的前途说几句。你知道你的处境不佳，的确不佳。你不懂得钱的重要。你日子过得辛苦，不久就会遍体鳞伤，然后就是贫病交迫。你的确应当考虑找个保姆了。”

他说话时那副居高临下的神气使他看上去大了两倍，也使他可厌的程度大了四倍。

“现在，让我给你出个主意，”斯特莱佛接着说，“你得面对现实。我这人就面对现实，只是方式不同而已。你有你的方式，你得面对现实。结婚吧！找个人来照顾你。你不喜欢跟女人交际，不懂得女人，也不会应付女人，别把那当回事。找一个对象。找一个有点财产的正经女人——一个女老板，或是女房主什么的—一跟她结婚，来个未雨绸缪。你只能这样。想想吧，西德尼。”

“我想想看，”西德尼说。