The corner, so intercepted, used to be and is still called "Little Denmark;" and the in-dwellers feel a large contempt for all their outer neighbors.

And this is sad, because Anerley Farm lies wholly outside of the Dike, which for a long crooked distance serves as its eastern boundary.
Upon the morning of the self-same day that saw Mr.Jellicorse set forth upon his return from Scargate Hall, armed with instructions to defy the devil, and to keep his discovery quiet--upon a lovely August morning of the first year of a new century, Mary Anerley, blithe and gay, came riding down the grassy hollow of this ancient Dane's Dike.

This was her shortest way to the sea, and the tide would suit (if she could only catch it) for a take of shrimps, and perhaps even prawns, in time for her father's breakfast.

And not to lose this, she arose right early, and rousing Lord Keppel, set forth for the spot where she kept her net covered with sea-weed.

The sun, though up and brisk already upon sea and foreland, had not found time to rout the shadows skulking in the dingles.