She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. ” “Thank you very much,” Anna said. 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. "By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days.
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