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. “It’s the centre of the intellectuals. He knew it absolutely, as if he had the check in his hand. That’s the fact about them. McClintock's was a plantation of ten thousand palms, yielding him annually about half a million nuts. “One has such ridiculous ideas of the wicked common people and the beautiful machinery of order that ropes them in.
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