‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little. I just thought perhaps a different boy was in store for you. 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. ‘But what will happen to Lucia? Are we to kill her?’ ‘Of course not. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice. She liked the animated eagerness of his manner. "Somebody ought to get hold of that young man," said Prudence, grimly, as she nodded in Spurlock's direction.
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