He flipped the television on. 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. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. You'll do. “You must send for the police at once, you know.
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