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Updated: May 4, 2025
She resolved to seek out Miss Meakin, and ask her to get her betrothed's advice and assistance. As she did not know Miss Meakin's present address, she thought the quickest way to obtain it was to call on her old friend Miss Nippett at Blomfield Road, Shepherd's Bush, who kept the register of all those who attended "Poulter's."
"You're overdoing it," said Mavis, as she mixed some brandy and milk. "I 'ate the muck," declared Miss Nippett, when Mavis besought her to drink it. "But if you don't do what you're told, you'll never get well." "Reely!" "Of course not. Take this at once," Mavis commanded. "Here, I say, who are you talking to?
Two or three times in the dread silent watches of the night, she was awakened by Miss Nippett's continually talking to herself. Mavis would interrupt her by asking if she would take any nourishment; but Miss Nippett, vouchsafing no answer, would go on speaking as before, her talk being entirely concerned with matters connected with the academy.
This last recollection so troubled Mr Poulter that Miss Nippett suggested that it was time for him to go and dress. As he left the room, he said to Mavis: "Pray never mention Gellybrand's name in my presence. If I weren't an artiste, I wouldn't mind; as it is, I'm all of a tremble." Mavis promised that she would not, at which the old man's face wore its usual kindly expression.
"Why, I declare, you can see the 'Scrubbs': you are in luck to-day." "What's the 'Scrubbs'?" "The 'Scrubbs' prison. Oh, I say, you are ignorant!" "I'm afraid I am," sighed Mavis. "It ain't often you can see the 'Scrubbs' at this time of year 'cause of the fog," remarked Miss Nippett, whose eyes were still glued to the window.
"That's the 'B.A.T.D., Grand Council Badge," Miss Nippett informed Mavis. "Wonderful!" exclaimed Mavis, who felt that her hypocrisy was justified by the pleasure it gave kindly Mr Poulter. "Say we enjoy a whiff of fresh air before commencing our labours," suggested Mr Poulter.
Her suspense of mind was such that it seemed long hours before she knocked at the blistered door in the Blomfield Road where Miss Nippett lived. Miss Nippett was in, she learned from the red-nosed, chilblain-fingered slut who opened the door. "What nyme?" "Mrs Kenrick, who was Miss Keeves," replied Mavis. "Will you go up?" said the slut when, a few minutes later, she came downstairs.
They played "Old Maid" deliberately, solemnly. After a time, Mavis had a strong suspicion that Miss Nippett was cheating in order that Mr Poulter might win; also, that Mr Poulter was manoeuvring the cards so that Mavis might not be declared "old maid." This belief was strengthened when Mavis heard Miss Nippett say to Mr Poulter, at the close of the game: "She ought to 'ave been 'old maid."
"Yes, the 'Scrubbs. Can you see 'em?" "Yes." "Quite distinct?" "Quite." "That's awright." Miss Nippett sighed with some content. "If 'e don't come soon, 'e'll be too late," murmured Miss Nippett after an interval of seeming exhaustion. Mavis waited with ears straining for the sound of the knocker on the front door. Miss Nippett lay so that her weakening eyes could watch the door of the bedroom.
"He promised to send me a postcard to say how he got on, but I suppose he was too busy to remember," sighed Miss Nippett. "Surely not!" "He's like all these great men: all their 'earts in their fame, with no thought for their humble assistants," she complained, to add after a few moments' pause, "A pity you're married." "Why?"
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