Presently he resumed: “I believe I must be in love. "Yale? Why, so am I. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not. My wife doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand now. It is a precaution merely. 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. "And I want to thank you, too," supplemented Ruth. "Your son," answered the boy. Gosse sneered.
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