Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence. Her father intercepted her, and for a moment she and he struggled with their hands upon the latch. “What a hypocrite you are. You know how stubborn they get. Stanley, having pretended to linger to smoke, fled suddenly up-stairs to petrography, and when Veronica tapped he answered through the locked door, “Go away, Vee! I’m busy,” and made a lapidary’s wheel buzz loudly. 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. There was a lot of that, John, a great deal of hunger.
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