ToC In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence Jack Sheppard had escaped,—for, at this time, the whole of the now thickly-peopled district north of Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching out in fertile fields in the direction of Islington—and about a quarter of a mile off, stood a solitary hovel, known as Black Mary's Hole. ‘En effet, it is for this that I was enquiring of this man if he has pen and paper. . They had scrubbed and dusted, torn down and hung up until noon. They blinded me. Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival to the dust. They were alike in one phase—loveless and lonely. “Odd little room,” said Ann Veronica, dimly apprehending that obtrusive sofa.
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