” “It’s a very good image,” said Ann Veronica. Things hung for a moment in an awkward silence. . ’ ‘From a convent? Even if I wished to do it, I could not. 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.
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