They took him from
the Mortimer, I met them just as I was going with my Rose to get a
pint o' four ale, and she had her arm in splints. She told her
sister she wanted to go to Perry's to get some wool, instead o'
which it was only a stall to get me a pint o' ale, bless her heart;
there's nobody else would do that much for poor old Jupp, and it's a
horrid lie to say she is gay; not but what I like a gay woman, I do:
I'd rather give a gay woman half-a-crown than stand a modest woman a
pot o' beer, but I don't want to go associating with bad girls for all
that. So they took him from the Mortimer; they wouldn't let him go
home no more; and he done it that artful, you know. His wife was in
the country living with her mother, and she always spoke respectful o'
my Rose. Poor dear, I hope his soul is in Heaven. Well, sir, would you
believe it, there's that in Mr. Pontifex's face which is just like
young Watkins; he looks that worrited and scrunched up at times, but
it's never for the same reason, for he don't know nothing at all, no
more than a unborn babe, no he don't; why there's not a monkey going
about London with an Italian organ grinder but knows more than Mr.
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