‘I beg your pardon?’ said Gerald. “We will see that he never annoys you. Before midnight, your nephew shall be safe beneath the hatches of the Zeeslang. And me, I wish to know why you have seen him. I might as well try to build a ladder to heaven. 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. “Time for my Patience,” she said. As he hesitated, unable to make up his mind what to do for the best, a heavy rumbling on the cobbles penetrated his absorption. She packed her things, then ran a mile to Julian’s apartment.
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