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Updated: June 24, 2025
In obedience to Mr Poulter's instructions, two of the band brought a big screen from a side-room; this was set up by the piano, at which instrument Mavis took her seat. The screen was arranged so that she and Cheadle, the cornet-player, would be in full sight of the dancers; the three musicians not in evening dress were hidden behind the screen. They commenced a waltz.
"She has also heard me play." "It is now only a question of terms," said Mr Poulter gently. "Quite so." "The last wish of 'Poulter's' is to appear ungenerous, but, with remorseless competition in the Bush," here Mr Poulter's kindly face hardened, "everyone suffers." "The Bush?" queried Mavis. "Shepherd's Bush," explained Poulter.
She always brightened up when Mavis came into the room, and was ever keenly interested in the latest news from the academy, particularly in Mr Poulter's physical and economic wellbeing. Seeing how make-believe inquiries of Mr Poulter after his accompanist's health cheered the lonely old woman, Mavis had no compunction in employing these white lies to brighten Miss Nippett's monotonous days.
Mavis told Miss Nippett of her engagement to play at "Poulter's" during the latter's absence. "Don't you count on it being for long," said Miss Nippett. "I hope it won't be, for your sake." "I'm counting the minute' till I shall be back again at the academy," declared Miss Nippett. Mavis, as she looked at the eager, pinched face, could well believe that she was speaking the truth.
Mr Poulter would not dream of troubling her, and asked Mavis if she could commence her duties on that evening. Upon Mavis saying that she could, Mr Poulter looked at his watch and said: "It still wants an hour till 'Poulter's' evening classes commence. As you've joined 'Poulter's' staff, it might be as well if you shared one of the privileges of your position."
"All right, thank you. Why don't you have some?" "No, thank you. I can't spare the time. I'm 'light refreshments." "But they're all eaten!" remarked Mavis, as her eye ranged along a length of table-cloth innocent of food or decoration. "'Poulter's' ain't such a fool as to stick nothink out; it would all be 'wolfed' in a second. Let 'em ask." "Some people mightn't like to."
Presently, in the cosiness of the bed-sitting room, Miss Nippett became confidential. "Are you ambitious?" she asked. "I don't know," replied Mavis. "I mean REELLY ambitious." "What do you mean by that?" "Well, like I am. I'm reelly ambitious." "Indeed!" "I want to be a partner in 'Poulter's. Not for the money, you understand, but for the honour. If I was made a partner, I'd die 'appy. See?"
"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.
Poulter's fixed eye and hungry-looking sword, which seemed impatient for something else to cut besides the air, admired the performance from as great a distance as possible. It was not until Mr. Poulter paused and wiped the perspiration from his forehead, that Tom felt the full charm of the sword-exercise, and wished it to be repeated. "Mr.
You haven't heard of the rivalry between mushroom Gellybrand's and old-established 'Poulter's'?" exclaimed Mr Poulter. Mavis did not know what to say. "Some people is ignorant!" commented Miss Nippett at her silence. "Gellybrand is the greatest scoundrel and blackleg in the history of dancing," continued Poulter.
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