Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. Some of my schemes are already in hand. 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. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. . I'll try to fill in the gaps.
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