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. . “I wonder if there is anything wrong with my manners,” she said. Wood. Before that came your father didn’t even know you were gone. Why had he offered her that kiss on board The Tigress? Perhaps that had been his hour of disenchantment. A loud buzz of curiosity circulated among the domestics; some of whom— especially the females—leaned forward to obtain a peep at the culprit.
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