I had just arrived to Tellson's Bank in Paris from London, and I was seventeen years old at the time. I was very anxious to see the man who called me here. My room was large and extremely dark with candles on the table. I think that the room was so dark, the man couldn't even tell I was there.  I stood by the fire to meet him and he bowed. I was curious, I felt confused and a little bit scared. He asked me to sit, kissed my hand, and bowed again. Mr. Lorry had appropriate manners. I explained to him the letter I received from the bank, notifying me about a piece of information, something that would be very shocking to me. Mr. Lorry looked nervous. I curtseyed him in sign of respect, and he bowed once more. He began to tell me a story. a story about a customer of the bank, a doctor. as he went on, it began to sound familiar to me, like my father's story. I now knew who this man was. He brought me here to tell me that my father was not dead. I've never felt so surprised as I did that day, I was in absolute shock. I was upset, but kept calm, waiting to hear more.