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. In a convent, you understand, one is like a servant, even if one is a lady. “Of course it is, Anna. ” Mike blurted, his voice swallowed by the throb of loud music. She could not stir hand or foot.
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