It was better even than the hymn-singing. 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. And if she was ever found living in the area like that, homeless, John could somehow find out. Why don’t you wait and see if you do truly love me, then I can believe you? Then I know I am worth waiting for. " "Jack, my love," cried Mrs.
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