On all hands Jack was cheered, and Jonathan hooted. "What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. It isn’t. The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone. And when Mr. 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.
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