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Updated: July 3, 2025
"He's round the corner," I heard Miss Sellars explain in a lower voice; and there followed a snigger. "He's a bit shy, ain't he?" suggested Mrs. Peedles in a whisper. "I've had enough of the other sort," was Miss Sellars' answer in low tones. "Ah, well; it's the shy ones that come out the strongest after a bit leastways, that's been my experience." "He'll do all right. So long."
To me she was always gracious, which by contrast to her general attitude towards my sex of studied disdain, I confess flattered me. She was good enough to observe to Mrs. Peedles, who repeated it to me, that I was the only gentleman in the house who knew how to behave himself.
Peedles had one dress and one cap, both black and void of ostentation; but on Sundays and holidays she would appear metamorphosed. She had carefully preserved the bulk of her stage wardrobe, even to the paste-decked shoes and tinsel jewelry.
Miss Sellars, retaining her gloves which was perhaps wise, her hands being her weak point signalled me out, much to my embarrassment, as the recipient of her most polite conversation. Mrs. Peedles became reminiscent of parties generally. Seeing that most of Mrs. Peedles' former friends and acquaintances were either dead or in more or less trouble, her efforts did not tend to enliven the table.
I made the rest of the descent by myself, and slipping out, closed the door behind me as noiselessly as possible. Again I did not return to Nelson Square until the early hours, and the next morning did not venture out until I had heard Miss Sellars, who appeared to be in a bad temper, leave the house. Then running to the top of the kitchen stairs, I called for Mrs. Peedles.
These would be gathered generally from among Dan's journalistic acquaintances and my companions of the theatre. Occasionally, Minikin and Jarman would be of the number, Mrs. Peedles even once or twice arriving breathless on our landing.
I'm sure I don't know why." I was glad on the whole when that bottle of whiskey was finished. A second might have driven me to suicide. There was no Mr. Peedles at least, not for Mrs. Peedles, though as an individual he continued to exist.
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