[NEVILLE]
Thank god for that— I gladly unmask!
To wear this coat in June is too great a task
There lies Dick Datchery, born on a whim
We can dispense with last rites for him

My motive in taking this roll
Of a wigged and white-whiskered soul
Was to get myself back
To this city and track
Down the culprit... with that as my goal

I had also intended to find
Just what Jasper had on his mind
Much to eager is he
That all Cloisterham see
Me the murderer — god, are they blind?

All of these people suspicious
That I had killed Edwin Drood
And with their anger so vicious
I wore this costume so crude
Stepping out on a limerick, out of a limerick
Out on a limerick air!

I found a theatrical kit
And as Datchery, I did my bit
So to clear my good name
From the blemish of blame
(‘Twas for Helena, too, I admit)
I followed John Jasper high-low
Found the dens he descends to below
And when Puffer came here
‘Twas immediately clear
My suspicions were quite apropos
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