" "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. A crisis of some kind was toward. 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. " "You delight me with the intelligence," said the stranger, entirely recovering his cheerfulness of look. It seems only yesterday that she was running down the Avenue, all hair and legs.
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