"Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. “Oh, dammit!” he remarked, “dammit!” with great bitterness as he faced it. 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. ‘Thought it was downright wicked to keep you ignorant of your proper background. com/E21or The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ragged Edge, by Harold MacGrath This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. "Of course," responded the widow, heaving a deep sigh.
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