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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Funny 'e always comes when I'm asleep!" she would say. "S'pose he was too busy to send up 'is name an' chance waking me. Tell those stories to them as swallers them." But a time came when Miss Nippett was too ill even to fret. For three days she lay in the dim borderland of death, during which the doctor, when he visited her, became more and more grave.
When a move was made to the ballroom, Miss Nippett whispered to Mavis: "If Mr Poulter wins the great cotillion prize competition 'e's goin' in for, I 'ope to stand 'Turpsichor' a clean, and a new coat of paint."
Mavis read a formally worded letter from Mr Poulter, in which he informed Miss Nippett "that, in consideration of her many years' faithful service, he could think of no more fitting way to reward her than by taking her into partnership: in accordance with this resolve, what was formerly known as 'Poulter's' would in future be described for all time as 'Poulter and Nippett's."
The two women walked together to the gate, when Miss Nippett hobbled off to the left. As Mavis turned to the right, she glanced at Mr Poulter, who was still standing on the steps; he was gazing raptly at "Turpsichor."
"11 Baynham Street, North Kensington, near Uxbridge Road station," Miss Nippett informed Mavis, after referring to an exercise book, to add: "This is the dooplicate register of 'Poulter's. I always keep it here in case the other should get lost. Mr. Poulter, like all them great men, is that careless." "Come again soon," said Miss Nippett, as Mavis rose to go. Mavis promised that she would.
By way of explanation, Miss Nippett handed Mavis one of a pile of prospectuses at her elbow; she at once recognised the familiar pamphlet that extolled Mr Poulter's wares. "See! 'E's got my name on the 'pectus. 'All particulars from Poulter's or Miss Nippett, 19 Blomfield Road, W. Isn't that something to talk about and think over?"
She had no eyes for the dancers, these not interesting her; her attention, of which she had plenty to spare, was fixed upon the kindly, beaming face and the agile limbs of Mr Poulter. It was a pleasure to watch him, he so thoroughly enjoyed his work; he could not take enough pains to instruct his pupils in the steps that they should take. Miss Nippett sat beside Mavis.
"And on 'Third Saturdays'?" said Poulter, as he again turned to Miss Nippett, as if seeking information. "Special and Select Assembly at the Athenaeum, including the Godolphin String Band and light refreshments," declared Miss Nippett. "Ah! carriages at twelve," said Mr Poulter with relish. "That means your getting home very late." "I don't mind. I don't live far from here. I can walk."
"You'll be saying you don't know the Old Bailey next." "I don't. But I know a lot of people who should." "Don't send 'em to 'Poulter's," said Miss Nippett. "There's enough already who're be'ind with their accounts." A few minutes later, Mr Poulter entered the room, wearing evening dress, dancing pumps, and a tawdry-looking insignia in his coat.
A few minutes before the doors were open, Miss Nippett approached her, wearing, besides her usual shawl, a coquettish cap and apron. "Have you come to the dance?" asked Mavis. "I'm 'ladies cloak-room' to-night? What do you think of Baffy?" "I don't know what to think." "No class, is 'e?" "Do you know anything about him?" "I don't 'old with the feller.
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