 at what time, sir?«
    »I speak, miss, of twenty years ago. He married - an English lady - and I
was one of the trustees. His affairs, like the affairs of many other French
gentlemen and French families, were entirely in Tellson's hands. In a similar
way I am, or I have been, trustee of one kind or other for scores of our
customers. These are mere business relations, miss; there is no friendship in
them, no particular interest, nothing like sentiment. I have passed from one to
another, in the course of my business life, just as I pass from one of our
customers to another in the course of my business day; in short, I have no
feelings; I am a mere machine. To go on -«
    »But this is my father's story, sir; and I begin to think« - the curiously
roughened forehead was very intent upon him - »that when I was left an orphan
through my mother's surviving my father only two years, it was you who brought
me to England. I am almost sure it was you.«
    Mr. Lorry took the hesitating little hand that confidingly advanced to take
his, and he put it with some ceremony to his lips. He then conducted the young
lady straightway to her chair again, and, holding the chair-back with his left
hand, and using his right by turns to rub his chin, pull his wig at the ears, or
point what he said, stood looking down into her face while she sat looking up
into his.
    »Miss Manette, it was I. And you will see how truly I spoke of myself just
now, in saying I had no feelings, and that all the relations I hold with my
fellow-creatures are mere business relations, when you reflect that I have never
seen you since. No; you have been the ward of Tellson's House since, and I have
been busy with the other business of Tellson's House since. Feelings! I have no
time for them, no chance of them. I pass my whole life, miss, in turning an
immense pecuniary Mangle.«
    After this odd description of his daily routine of employment, Mr. Lorry
flattened his flaxen wig upon his head with both hands (which was most
unnecessary, for nothing could be flatter than its shining surface was before),
and resumed his former attitude.
    »So far, miss (as you have remarked), this is the story of your regretted
father. Now comes
