On the ground that I was 'not a relative of the deceased,'
the officials refused to institute even preliminary inquiries.
During this time no news of Mrs. Gudgeon had come to me through Polly
Onion, and I determined to go to Primrose Court and see what had
become of her.
When I reached Primrose Court I found that the shutters of the house
were up. Knocking and getting no response, I ascertained from a
pot-boy who was passing the corner of the court that Mrs. Gudgeon had
decamped. Neither the pot-boy nor any one in the court could tell me
whither she was gone.
'But where is Polly Onion?' I asked anxiously; for I was beginning to
blame myself bitterly for having neglected them.
'I can tell you where poor Polly is,' said the pot-boy. 'She's in the
New North Cemetery. She fell downstairs and broke her neck.'
'Why, she lived downstairs,' I said.
'That's true; you seem to be well up in the family, sir. But Poll
couldn't pay her rent, so old Meg took her in. And on the very
morning when Meg and Poll were a-startin' off together into the
country--it was quite early and dark--Poll stumbles over three young
flower-gals as 'ad crep' in the front door in the night time and was
makin' the stairs their bed.
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