"Does he
write comedy?" Ernest thought Towneley meant that I ought to write
tragedy, and said he was afraid I wrote burlesque. "Oh, come, come,"
Towneley, "that will do famously. I will go and see him at once." But
on second thoughts he determined to stay with Ernest and go with him
to the police court. So he sent Mrs. Jupp for me. Mrs. Jupp hurried so
fast to fetch me, that in spite of the weather's being still cold
she was "giving out," as she expressed it, in streams. The poor old
wretch would have taken a cab, but she had no money and did not like
to ask Towneley to give her some. I saw that something very serious
had happened, but was not prepared for anything so deplorable as
what Mrs. Jupp actually told me. As for Mrs. Jupp, she said her
heart had been jumping out of its socket and back again ever since.
I got her into a cab with me, and we went off to the police station.
She talked without ceasing.
"And if the neighbours do say cruel things about me, I'm sure it
ain't no thanks to him if they're true. Mr. Pontifex never took a
bit o' notice of me no more than if I had been his sister. Oh, it's
enough to make anyone's back bone curdle.
Pages:
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460