He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. 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 concealing himself behind the timber, Mr.
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