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. There had been fusses and scenes dimly apprehended through half-open doors. "Out of a family album, you said," Angelina reminded her sister. The prisoner, however, submitted more quietly than was anticipated. ‘What else do you expect? It’s the penalty you pay for marrying an Englishman. Strike the gag, Blueskin. You have grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out. .
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