The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. 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 could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. "That was the lad's name," returned the stranger. ” Lucy’s eyes smiled and a weary closed lipped smile arose on her face.
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