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. But that instinct is severely dampened most of the time. With Baptist Kettleby, to engage in a matter is to go through with it. He declined to come in. But before he could say anything, the vehicle rolled to a halt.
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