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Updated: May 4, 2025
Miss Nippett soon forgot her neglect of "Turpsichor" and fell into a further doze. When she next awoke, she asked: "Would you mind drawing them curtains?" "Like that?" "You are good to me: reely you are." "Nonsense!" "But then you ought to be: you've got a good man to love you an' give you babies." "What is it you want?" asked Mavis sadly. "Can you see the 'Scrubbs'?" "The prison?"
When Mavis next visited Miss Nippett, she rummaged, at her friend's request, in the cupboard containing the unclaimed "overs" for finery with which the accompanist wished to decorate her exalted state. If Miss Nippett had had her way and had appeared in the street wearing the gaudy, fluffy things she picked out, she would have been put down as a disreputable old lady.
"What luck Mr Poulter's had at the dancing competition! Haven't you come about that?" "I came to see how you were." "Don't you worry about me. I shall be right again soon; reely I shall." Mavis tried to discover if Miss Nippett were properly looked after, but without result, Miss Nippett's mind being wholly possessed by "Poulter's" and its chief.
But the kindly doctor did not seem to hear what she said; he was sadly regarding Miss Nippett, who, just now, was dozing uneasily on her pillows. Then, without saying a word, he left the room. Thus it came about that Mavis kept the long, sad night vigil beside the woman whom death was to claim so soon.
"How long have you been married?" "Not long. Three months." "Any baby?" "After three months!" blushed Mavis. "Working so at 'Poulter's' makes one forget them things. No offence," apologised Miss Nippett. "Good-bye. I'll look in again soon." "If you 'ave any babies, see they're taught dancing at 'Poulter's." Between Notting Hill and Wormwood Scrubbs lies a vast desert of human dwellings.
She spoke of him to Mr Poulter, who looked perplexed before replying: "Ah, my dear young lady, it's as well for such as you not to inquire too closely into the lives of we who are artistes." When Mavis had put on her hat and cloak, and was leaving the Athenaeum, Miss Nippett called out: "It's all right; you can sleep sound; 'e's pleased with you." "Who?" asked Mavis. "Mr Poulter.
"I don't see why you shouldn't be some day. Mr Poulter might reward you that way for your years of faithful service." As Mavis walked back to Kiva Street, she asked herself the question that Miss Nippett had asked her, "Was she ambitious?" Now, her chief concern was to earn her daily bread.
"Thank you," replied Mr Poulter, "but I only smoke after 'Poulter's' is closed. It might give 'Poulter's' a bad reputation if the young lady pupils went 'ome smelling of smoke." "'E thinks of everything," declared Miss Nippett admiringly. "'Poulter's' is not deficient in worldly wisdom," remarked the dancing-master with subdued pride.
As they stood on the steps, Mavis could not help noticing that whereas Miss Nippett had only eyes for Mr Poulter, the latter's attention was fixed on the plaster figure of "Turpsichor" to the exclusion of everything else. "Quite so," assented Mavis. "She has been with 'Poulter's' fifteen years." "Almost as long as I have," put in Miss Nippett. "The figure?" asked Mavis.
She raised herself in bed and nodded a welcome as Mavis entered the room. After assuring Mavis "that she was all right, reely she was," she asked: "When are you going to 'ave your baby?" "Very soon now," sighed Mavis. "I don't think I shall ever 'ave one," remarked Miss Nippett. "Indeed!"
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