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     FragmentWelcome to consult..., and the
    jury did not even turn to consider. After trying it, Stryver, C.J.,
    was satisfied that no plainer case could be.

    Accordingly, Mr. Stryver inaugurated the Long Vacation with a
    formal proposal to take Miss Manette to Vauxhall Gardens; that
    failing, to Ranelagh; that unaccountably failing too, it behoved him
    to present himself in Soho, and there declare his noble mind.

    Towards Soho, therefore, Mr. Stryver shouldered his way from
    the Temple, while the bloom of the Long Vacation’s infancy was
    still upon it. Anybody who had seen him projecting himself into

    Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

    f
    A Tale of Two Cities

    Soho while he was yet on St. Dunstan’s side of Temple Bar,
    bursting in his full-blown way along the pavement, to the
    jostlement of all weaker people, might have seen how safe and
    strong he was.

    His way taking him past Tellson’s, and he both banking at
    Tellson’s and knowing Mr. Lorry as the intimate friend of the
    Manettes, it entered Mr. Stryver’s mind to enter the bank, and
    reveal to Mr. Lorry the brightness of the Soho horizon. So, he
    pushed open the door with the weak rattle in its throat, stumbled
    down the two steps, got past the two ancient cashiers, and
    shouldered himself into the musty back closet where Mr. Lorry sat
    at great books ruled for figures, with perpendicular iron bars to
    his window as if that was ruled for figures too, and everything
    under the clouds were a sum.

    “Halloa!” said Mr. Stryver, “How do you do? I hope you are
    well!”

    It was Stryver’s grand peculiarity that he always seemed too big
    for any place, or space. He was so much too big for Tellson’s, that
    old clerks in distant corners looked up with looks of remonstrance,
    as though he squeezed them against the wall. The House itself,
    magnificently reading the paper quite in the far-off perspective,
    lowered displeased, as if the Stryver head had been butted into its
    responsible waistcoat.

    The discreet Mr. Lorry said, in a sample tone of the voice he
    would recommend under the circumstances, “How do you do, Mr.
    Stryver? How do you do, sir?” and shook hands. There was a
    peculiarity in his manner of shaking hands, always to be seen in
    any clerk at Tellson’s who shook hands with a customer when the
    House pervaded the air. He shook in a self-abnegating way, as one

    Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

    f
    A Tale of Two Cities

    who shook for Tellson & Co.

    “Can I do anything for you, Mr. Stryver?” asked Mr. Lorry, in
    his business character.

    “Why, no, thank you; this is a private visit to yourself, Mr.
    Lorry; I have come for a private word.”

    “Oh indeed!” said Mr. Lorry, bending down his ear, while his
    eye strayed to the House afar off.

    “I am going,” said Mr. Stryver, leaning his arms confidently on
    the desk: whereupon, although it was a large double one, there
    appeared to be not half desk enough for him: “I am going to make
    an offer of myself in marriage to your agreeable little friend, Miss
    Manette, Mr. Lorry.”

    “Oh dear me!” cried Mr. Lorry, rubbing his chin, and looking at
    his visitor dubiously.

    “Oh dear me, sir?” repeated Stryver, drawing back. “Oh dear
    you, sir? What may your meaning be, Mr. Lorry?”

    “My meaning,” answered the man of business, “is, of course,
    friendly and a"};

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