“I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said. There's one person in the house whom I wouldn't frighten for the world. ’ ‘That’s fortunate,’ murmured Lucilla. She moved forward almost indiscernibly, a millimeter. 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. ‘Pitiful. For a long time she surveyed a row of towering holly-hocks, as though they offered an explanation.
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