Ruth could tell the doctor; she could bare many of her innermost thoughts to that kindly man; but there was an inexplicable reserve before this young man whom she still endued with the melancholy charm of Sydney Carton. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. “I have noticed,” he said, “that you seem to delight in taking a topsy-turvy view of life. Regardless as the gentry of the Mint usually were (for, indeed, they had become habituated from their frequent occurrence to such scenes,) of any outrages committed in their streets; deaf, as they had been, to the recent scuffle before Mrs. .
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