Annabel entered. 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. “You know,” he went on, “this doesn’t seem to me to end anything. He motioned the young man to the rear chair, because at that hour the youth appeared to be a quantity close to zero.
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