In this way he crossed one or two public gardens and a bowling-green,—the neighbourhood of Clerkenwell then abounded in such places of amusement,—passed the noted Ducking Pond, where Black Mary had been frequently immersed; and, striking off to the left across the fields, arrived in a few minutes at his destination. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. I have a good memory, you perceive, Sir Rowland. "I cannot—will not suffer you to remain here. But he reckoned without his host. As this had been Mrs. "She has flown up stairs," replied the widow.
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