" There was a roaring in her ears like that of angry waters. 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. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. . “Soon enough, John. “You were talking to that fellow Ramage to-day—in the Avenue. Jolly hard life for a girl, getting a living.
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