‘It’s a pretty name. "Why do you laugh?" he asked. \"I don't think so. 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. She discovered him sitting upon the floor beside his open trunk. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. "Mr. “I wonder if it is.
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