"Writes
for the stage, does he?" said Towneley. "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," said 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.
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