Maybe the girl was telling the truth, and then again, maybe she wasn't. Sordid; but that was not Ruth's term for it; she had no precise commentary to offer. A familiar figure was making his way towards them. 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. " This frankness rather subdued Spurlock. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. " Mr.
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