Molly’s virginity verified. • All three on the bed. • Molly refuses me. Betsy’s rage. • My prick up Betsy temporarily. • Molly convinced. • I mount her. • A wriggler and screecher. • The bed pillow employed. • Stroke number one. • The bloody sequel. • Stroke number two. • Betsy screwed. • Stroke number three. • Molly spends. • A night’s cock-work. • Three in a bed. • Three weeks with Molly. • My erotic whims. • Difficult postures. • Betsy’s assistance. • Molly on Betsy. • I fuck Betsy. • Molly jealous. • Betsy frigging herself. • Sudden disappearance of the two. • Reasons months after. • The washerwoman in quod. • The Priest’s interference. • With Betsy in a Bath. • Fucking under water. • The Brothel in J***s St. closed.

I had doubted Betsy, and thought she was going to sell me about the virginity, spite of her protestations, and spite of my telling her that if not satisfied, I would only give her the price of a fuck of herself, and a little present to the girl: and knowing the room and the way the furniture was placed, and where the gas was, this now occurred to me again. I had to prevent my being cheated, and to get a good look, brought a candle with me which I now lighted, and stood by the side of the bed, — Betsy close to me. — I took one of the girls’ legs, Betsy the other. — “Open your thighs and let him look, you said you would — you promised me you would — there’s a darling,” said she.

The girl’s legs opened wide — I gave Betsy the candle, and with the vacant hand pulled open wide the lips of the little cunt, which was of a delicate pink, with the slightest signs of dark hair just on the mons. — excited as I was, and with a prick throbbing as if it would burst, or spend without a touch, I saw that the cunt had never had anything larger than a finger up it. With an impulse I have always had with hairless cunts, I put my mouth to it, and gave it a little lick. Such a mouthful of saliva came, and ran out of my mouth at once. — The girl struggled as she felt my tongue, and closed her thighs on my head. The spittle had covered her cunt — I threw off my shirt, pushed Molly straight on the bed, got on it by the side of her, and Betsy got on the other side.

But she would not let me mount her. In vain Betsy coaxed and bullied by turn. — “No — no,” — she had altered her mind. — She was frightened — it would hurt, — it would make her bleed. — Then she burst into tears and cried. I desisted, Betsy quieted her, for fear of the people of the house, and when she had done she spoke to her in a subdued voice as nearly as possible thus.

“You bloody little fool. I had pricks up me twice as big as that, and longer than his, before I was your age — don’t I get a living by fucking? — Don’t I get silk stockings and dresses by fucking? — How are you going to live? — Who’s going to keep you, I want to know? — What did you come here for? — Didn’t you promise me? — Didn’t you say you’d let him? – Didn’t you say you’d like to be fucked if it was nicer than frigging yourself”

The girl made no reply, and was confused and shaking. “All right, you may go, and you may get home as you can,” — saying that, she jumped off the bed and rolled up in a bundle the girl’s chemise and petticoat, which were quite new. — “You shan’t have the things I’ve given you, damned if you shall.” Then she came to the bed, violently pulled off from the girl both boots and stockings, and rolled up the stockings with the petticoat. — “Now you may go — put on your dress and your boots, and go, you’re not wanted here, my friend and I will stop all night.”

The girl scared out of her senses. “Don’t Betsy, where am I to go to?” — “Go the Hell and buggery, go and shit yourself, I don’t care a bloody fart where you go to.” — The girl blubbered and sobbed out, — “I will then, I will let him.” — “Hold your snivelling, and don’t make that noise. — Someone’s at the door perhaps, — let him do it to you, — if you don’t — go — and you know. — You know what,” — Betsy, tho slanging in the foulest way (and I have not told a quarter what she said), — did it all in a suppressed voice.

I got on to the bed again. So did Betsy, who helped the girl to her old place. Again the girl said she should be hurt and refused. — “You do it Betsy, with him — you let him do it.” — “Lord,” said Betsy, who had re- covered her temper, “he may fuck me till his spunk come up into my mouth if he likes — show her how to do it — let’s have a fuck, my dear,” — and she winked at me — “show her how it’s done, and then she will let you, won’t you Molly” — Molly made no reply.

I knelt between Betsy’s legs naked, with prick stiff, dropped on to her, and put my prick up her — “There, feel, Molly.” — She took hold of the girl’s hand and guided it between our bellies — “Feel, his prick’s right up — turn a little on the side,” said she to me. We did, keeping copulated. When her arse was a little turned towards Molly, she threw one thigh high up over my hips so that the girl could see the prick as it lay squeezed into Betsy’s cunt — “Look under, look Molly — look there, nothing but his balls to see, is there.” — The girl put her head down, and curious, touched my balls. — “Oh fuck, fuck, isn’t it lovely my darling,” said Betsy.

We turned flat again and Betsy began fucking and heaving in earnest. She thought she was going to have the treat for she wanted it. — But I slipped my prick out of her cunt, tho I kept on ramming and driving, as if I was going to fuck her backside up to her blade bones. — “Sham,” — I whispered. — Betsy, tho disappointed, took the hint, and we heaved and pushed together, my prick now outside her, and at length screaming out, “Fuck — cunt. — Oh, lovely — ah my spunk’s — coming — oh, push hard — dear — fuck — hick.” — We both shammed ecstatic pleasure and sunk quietly down, whilst the lass sitting up naked on the bed by our side looked at us all the while intently.

“Let him now do it to you,” — said Betsy, again coaxing and threatening Molly. — My prick had drooped, just as the girl at last allowed me to get between her thighs — but it sprung up stiff directly I dropped on to her. I worked cunningly, rubbing the tip just outside till I had lodged it. She trembled. I pressed her, and gave a tremendous thrust, and was on the right road. — “Oho — hah — ar,” — she screamed — “You hurt — get off — I won’t let you — har.” — She screeched loudly, and struggled violently. “Hish, you damned howling little bitch,” said Betsy, pushing a pillow right over the girl’s head. I pressed my head on the pillow, the girl’s head was hidden from me, but I could hear her cry. — I had not got up her, was funky about the noise we were making, but in the excitement thought only of my work. — “Hish, they will hear,” were the last words I heard Betsy say. — Then I felt my sperm was coming, and with a violent effort, and grasping the fat little buttocks like a vice — my prick went up her, leaving my sperm all the way up as I entered. I felt the tightening of her hymen round my prick, as it went through it with a cunt-splitting thrust.

It was all over in a minute. Then, “Oh, don’t,” — I heard in muffled tones. — “Have you done her?” — said Betsy. — ” Y— hes — y — hes.” — She pulled away the pillow, and there I lay with the little naked one palpitating, but quiet in my arms, my prick up to its roots in her. I kept it there, tho it was shrinking’ but I kept on gently thrusting, just enough to keep it half stiff. Then I partially withdrew it, the girl winced and murmured. — “Oh, take it out, you do hurt,” that stiffened me quite. — “I am fucking again. — I shall spend again,” — I said to Betsy, who turned on her side to see better, and in a few minutes of exquisitely prolonged pleasures — I spermatised again the little virgin quim.

[It is the last time but one or two that I recollect doing so without uncunting, for I am approaching a time of life, which makes a pause between fucks usual with me.]

I rose on my knees, and looked at the girl, who lay quite quiet with her thighs wide open, and her hand over her face. — A bloodier mass of spunk I never saw on a cunt. — Her blood had run down on to the counterpane, and lay in a red rim all round my prick near to its root. I was delighted beyond measure. She bled more than any virginity of her age which I ever yet have had, I think.

Betsy chuckled. — “Well, Moll — you’ve been fucked and no mistake, ain’t you? — How do you like it? — It didn’t hurt you, did it?” — The girl made no reply, but lay with her nice round thighs wide open, her eyes covered with the back of one hand. — Betsy got off the bed and put a towel under Molly’s buttocks and thighs. “You’ve spent enough and you have spoiled the counterpane.” — The girl closed her legs on the towel, turned on one side, and began to cry. Betsy pulled her up and gave me the towel. I wiped my prick, and we all three got up — the girl ceased crying, and then sat on the sofa naked, in front of the fire; and we began drinking again.

Our talk was all about fucking, and we chaffed the former virgin, who sat without answering in a meditative way, seemingly wondering and upset by what had taken place. — At length, looking at Betsy. — “What will mother do if she finds it out?” she said. — “Find it out, how is she to find it out? — You won’t tell her, and she does not look at your cunt, does she?” —”She might find it out.” — “You little fool, she can’t — and if she asks you, tell her to ax your pooper — and come to me, I will get you on to earn your living.” — “She might find it out, tho,” said the girl, giving her head a hard shake, and looking at the fire and as if speaking to herself. — “Say it’s one of the boys in the court who did it, but I’ll tell you what to say tomorrow,” said Bet.

Betsy had had so much liquor that she was very jolly. The girl was on the sofa between us, when Bet put her hand across and began frigging my cock. “Is the next for her?” said she. — “Look Molly, that’s what did it

— isn’t it nice? — Tell us how does it feel when it’s up you? — It didn’t hurt you, did it?” — “It hurts me now,” said Molly sullenly. — “Wash it, Molly.” — I would not hear of that, — I wanted her as she was, I wanted her as she was, I liked to see the bloody smears on her belly and thighs, and know her cunt was full of my semen. “Don’t you want to piddle” — “Yes,” said the girl in a whisper. — “Do it then.” — “I shan’t”

— “Why you little fool, you must, we’ll all go to bed directly, and you must before you go to sleep. I’m not going to bed with you, unless you do, you’ll be pissing over us in the night.” — The girl piddled, singing out — “ooooho” in a whisper, as the piddle I suppose touched the torn edges of her virginity.

Time had passed on in this amusing and exhilarating conversation till again I wanted the lass. She would not consent, she would not be hurt again, but we persuaded her, got her on to the bed, and again I sent my pego up her. At first she gave little subdued cries, and then took the thrusts very quietly. — “Isn’t it nice now?” “No.” — “Don’t it give you pleasure?” — “No — no — no,” — was all I got out of her. But I raised my self upon my elbow to look at her, whilst I went on fucking. She laid so quiet and closed her eyes in such a manner, that I am sure it did give her pleasure, tho she might not have spent.

We got hungry, and did not like the woman to fetch it Betsy for her. I was fucked out. How many times I did it I don’t know, but had rarely been baudier and stronger. I so enjoyed the girl, that my cock stood the moment I laid my hands on her thighs, and I parted with her longing to meet her again.

The next night but one I again had them both, and passed a delicious evening. — The baud no longer objected. The girl came naturally dressed and looked older than she did in her makeup, which was a failure. — This night was, if less exciting, more enjoyable in its lasciviousness. The lass raised no objections, and for some hours my eyes were feasted and my fingers or my prick were investigating her cunt. What a delicious satisfaction to push into the little tight tube, and compare it mentally with full grown capacious cunts, to compare the jagged, pink slit, with the open port of Betsy, who told us about the pricks she had seen and had up her, and of such baudy pranks, that the lass declared she did not believe them. I did. What pleasure I had when again the girl spent, and admitted that it was better than frigging — even if Betsy did it to her. — “You seem comfortabler after it,” said she, “than when you do it yourself, don’t you Betsy.” — It was an evening of mental and physical enjoyment to Molly and myself, and even to Betsy, who kept frigging herself.

Night after night, almost without intermission, did I then have Molly. — One night, Betsy said it was a shame that I did not give her a turn, and Molly consenting, I fucked her whilst Molly looked on. — Molly seemed to think she had a right to all that would come out of my doodle.

I now get more whimsical in my lusts and more versatile in my enjoyments. Different poses suggest themselves to me continually. I have bent most women to obedience in these, of late years, those who would not obey I ceased to visit. But if a woman liked fucking, she takes as much pleasure in lasciviousness as a man does. — Betsy with her witty lewedness was fond of lascivious postures, but altho she did lewed things, she always seemed to do them with a certain witty gentility that was peculiar to her. The great pleasure she had in placing Molly, and shewing her how to move, and perform with me, was evident. — It was a baudy play, or a rehearsal.

I wanted to fuck Molly dog fashion. — When she leant over the bed she was too low when she knealt on the bed too high. Bet, who always watched our fuckings, was ready with a suggestion. — She threw herself on her back at the edge of the bed with her legs dangling. — “If she lays on me, her cunt will just be at the right height,” — “Nonsense.” — But I put Molly, laughing, on the top of Betsy and they were naked belly to belly, face to face. — Bet clutched her threw her heels up on to Molly’s buttocks and jogged up and down for a minute, as if fucking. “Now you can see two cunts with one eye shut, said Bet, if you look.” — Puffing open the little ones’ legs, I saw two cunts nearly meeting. Have I ever seen that before? — I forget.

I did not think of flat-cocking (tho I have often thought of it since) — but easing Molly down towards me a little, I got her cunt just at the right level, and drove my prick pretty well home, then holding her legs with difficulty on each side of my hips, began fucking.

Betsy threw her legs up high, when Molly’s were so placed. I placed one of my hands between their two bellies, and could just feel with my knuckles the hairy surrounding of Betsy’s split, whilst with my fingers I felt Molly’s clitoris. Then with my hand thus, I fucked and spent. Then I shoved Molly up higher on to Betsy, stooped, and saw her cunt dripping out its sperm onto Betsy’s cunt.

Betsy, thoroughly worked up, having felt every jog and my balls almost knocking against her, as I poked Molly, as she now felt the spunk drop on to her cunt, pushed Molly off of her, and shutting her eyes began frigging herself. — “You’re not going to have all the pleasure, my darlings,” she said. — Molly and I looked whilst she frigged. “Let’s feel your prick,” said she suddenly, I moved close to her — she seized it. — “It’s sticky. The spunk’s all over it.” She gasped out, squeezing it hard, — “Oh, ahar my God.” Her imagination as she felt my cock, helped her, and she spent. It is wonderful what ungainly attitudes and what difficult uncomfortable poses men and women will put themselves in, to get variety of attitudes in fucking.

“Do you often frig yourself?” I asked her. — “Yes she do,” said Molly, “she likes it.” — “Shut up you,” said Bet, “I frig when I can’t get flicked and I haven’t had much chance lately I’ve been with you every night — the other night I gave a Peeler a treat.” — “Where did he have you?” — “Against a shop door,” said Betsy, nothing abashed. — “I don’t believe you.” But Molly told me that she saw Betsy and the Policeman at it. So the girl was training up very nicely in the way she should go.

I tried to ascertain where the little one lived but never could get at it from either of the girls. I wanted Molly alone, and to save the expense as well, for I had to pay double for the room, and to pay both Betsy and Molly. That the girl went home with Bet, and that she had a mother, I learnt from scraps of conversation, especially when the flap-cunted one had had her full share of wine, yet the home was kept secret and Bet, when questioned at length said, “you’d better not bother yourself — or you’ll get perhaps into more trouble than you’ll like.” — So I ceased enquiring.

Nearly a month had passed away, when Bet said the girl was going back to her mother. “She must stop at home three days, and then I’ll get her out again, but she must go home early.” That I agreed to. At the house on a night arranged, the mistress told me that Betsy had called to say she should see me soon, but not that night, nor did she meet me afterwards, and some months rolled by, before I met Betsy again. She was then looking very poor and unwell. — We turned an accommodation house, and then she told me all that had occurred.

The girl was the daughter of a laundress, a friend of Betsy’s, and she was allowed to be much with her, tho the mother knew how Betsy got her living. The girl was growing, had had her courses, and wanted fucking. — “Fucked by someone I knew she would be soon. — Some ragged-arsed coster perhaps. She’d been felt by youths, and had felt them, and as you wanted a fresh one, I thought I might as well have a few pounds for the virginity,. as let it go for nothing” — So she led the girl up to it. It was easy enough, the little one nothing loath, was longing to have a prick up her, and get a silk dress, but Betty scarcely knew how to get her away. Just then the mother got drunk, assaulted a policeman, was abusive, and was quickly sent to quod for a month. — Betsy said the girl should stay with her, till she was out of prison, and so she did, and she was then brought to taste my prick.

After the last time I had Molly, the mother came home, and soon told Bet her daughter had been ruined, and that Bet was at the bottom of the business. She denied it — and Molly denied it, but it ended in a row. The mother got again drunk and assaulted Betsy. The whole neighbourhood got to know and was up in arms. Betsy was obliged to leave her lodgings and at last to leave the neighbourhood. — She was afraid even to take to her old Strand walk, because of the mother. Since then, Molly and her mother had gone she knew not where.

Betty’s belief was that it was owing to a Priest, for Molly had sworn she had never told her mother. When a doctor to whom she took the girl, had examined her cunt, he said that if a man had not been up her, she had put something up as big as a man. Molly still resolutely denied knowing anything about the matter, or that her cunt was any larger than it always had been, and said that she had put things up it. They were Roman Catholics. The mother took Molly to confess. The girl would not tell Betsy anything she had told the Priest, saying that she should go to hell if she did tell — and declared in ambiguous terms that the Priest had never asked her that — but only what he had asked her other times before — and she had taken care not to say too much. For all that, Betsy declared that from what the mother had let out that the Priest must have cautioned her, against letting her having anything more to say or do with Betsy. It seems that whilst Molly had been living with Bet, the two had talked a great deal about Priests, and what women told those holy men when confessing — and Betsy declared that tho the Priest might not have said the actual thing, he had said enough to the mother, to put her on the scent and make her do what she did.

I fucked Betsy that night but never afterwards, and gave her what I could to compensate her for her trouble and loss, for it seemed a probable story. I soon afterwards lost sight of her, and Molly I have never seen since.

The episode lasted about four weeks, and I had plenty of amusement during the time. — I was delighted with the little one. I could gaze for half an hour at a time at the little delicate pink slit, its jagged rupture, its little hairless lips: and then look at Betsy’s well-haired cunt, as she laid by the side of her. When the little one’s cunt was fresh washed I would tickle the little clitoris with my tongue till she closed her thighs on me — or pushed my head away, but I never made her spend that way, nor thought of doing so, nor desired it. — It was simply instinctive, lascivious play which pleased us both — and delighted Betsy to witness.

In arranging these later portions of manuscript, I came upon a narrative of copulation in a bath, which I had with this big-eyed Betsy — I knew that I had written it, and at one time looked for it fruitlessly, then forgot it, and only thought about it again, when in arranging the loose leaves telling of my secret life at about this date, it suddenly turned up. It must there-fore be kept in place here, altho what occurred took place certainly ten years earlier. — It was the only time I ever fucked a woman under water.

I have since tried to stroke a woman in a bath in the southwest of Europe, and failed, but fucked her directly we left the bath (in which I let as much water play-fully up her cunt as I could) on a sofa in the dressing room. — It was at about 10 o’clock a.m. She was a lovely-formed, dark- eyed, dark-haired creature, a ballet girl, and an Italian about twenty years old, and for now my amusements were far wider in range, obscenity, and eccentricity) I made her piss over me from the edge of the bath, and I pissed against her cunt, before our ablution. This was to her great amusement — and during all breakfast time afterwards, she did nothing but talk about it, for it was her first essay in such class of erotic diversion. — After breakfast, we adjourned again to the bath, under pretence of taking one, and I fucked her twice in the dressing room and the I went back by myself to P***h.

One night, Betty and I talked about the bath which we took together years previously, for it was she who told me of the bathing place. It is strange to me that I have never written full narrative before, for I made the notes at the time, as I well recollect. And now to the narrative.

One day when I had her on my first acquaintance with her, the subject turned on baths, and she asked if I had ever had a woman in a bath. “It takes a good man to fuck under water,” said she. Then she told me where I could try, and I met her there soon after.

In J***s St., not far from my favourite baudy house, was a small building on the outside window of which in largish letters was written “Baths.” There were there indeed baths for gentlemen, yet I expect the paying business was the double bath to which the initiated only had access. — Betsy told me not to go in with her, for men and women never went in together, but to wait a few minutes, as she had to see if a bath was ready, and let the keeper know who to expect. I did as told, and was soon in a comfortable little room where Betsy was awaiting me.

Against the wall was a bath like any other bath, but large enough for two. Hot and cold water could be turned on at pleasure. There were several different sized, but large flat cushions covered with soft leather, or something smooth, intended to be placed at will in the bath, for bum, back, knees, or head. We soon stripped, and filled the bath to a height just enough to cover our bodies, and then got into it together. Having heard from Betsy of the difficulty, I had kept my-self from fucking for a few days, and now had a rigid prick, and plenty of sperm in my testicles.

Laying by her side I began to feel her cunt. She told me the more I let the water up, the greater difficulty I might have in fucking her. I soon began the work, and to my annoyance could not get my prick up her comfortably. Her cunt felt sloppy, yet dry to my tip, and my prick did not seem so stiff as it had been a minute or two before. She laughed. Then I arranged the cushions differently, so that her cunt might be higher up, for me to get at it more readily. Then I had to let water out, and then in, because it either covered her too much, or me too little. Then her head was too low and so on. But at length all being carefully adjusted after much time and trouble, again I mounted her under the water, and got my prick into her cunt. Then the motion of my arse and belly, and her wriggling up to me, sent the water up in waves, slopping all over her face, and directly afterwards, one of the pillows slipped away from under us, her head sank down clean under the water, my face went under the water filling my nose, out slipped my prick, and we both got up drip-ping, she annoyed because she didn’t want her hair wetted, I annoyed because I hadn’t finished my fuck. Indeed I had scarcely began it, yet now found my prick quite limp.

Again we went in. We had been a longish time now in and out, and were getting saturated, and my prick wouldn’t stand. — In vain she frigged it under the water, so I rose up on my knees, and frigged it stiff, sank down, entered her orifice, but I couldn’t do it. I got up angry and swearing, she rose laughing. Then I turned her arse towards me kneeling, and knelt my-self, trying it from behind, but both cunt and ballocks were above the water then, but I pierced her and shoved for a minute or so up her, and got it well stiff again.

But having come to fuck under the water and not out of it, I began readjusting the water level, so as to cover her arse and my prick. Then it was too cold, then too hot, and it took time to get it right, but at length it was. With difficulty I then got my prick up her when just under the water, when the cushion on which her hands were placed as she knelt, slipped away. A little only, but anyone floats so easily, that directly she had lost her pose, down she went on her belly, her head clean under water again, down I sank on the top of her, out slipped my prick of course, and out of the bath both got again.

“I told you it took a good man to do it in the water,” said she. — So I found, but was determined to do it, for I knew the spunk was in my balls ready for issue. Again I tried various positions. Her cunt had lost all its lubricity, the water had acted on my cock prejudicially and though wanting it, I had to frig it up each time to stiffen it, and at length I could not get it into her when under the water at all.

She began to feel chilly, so did I. We stirred the fire, and made the water hotter. I got furious. She wanted to frig me under the water, I would not let her. Had she ever frigged herself under it? — No, but she would try, and she began, the water surging all about, as her hand moved. “I can,” said she. But I pulled her hand away, and suspended the operation for I wanted her to spend with me.

At length determined to do it somehow, we put the water very shallow, I turned her arse again towards me, and we fucked kneeling, until our mutual pleasure was just increasing. Then, uncunting, I turned her on her back, and myself on to her belly, and my throbbing prick went up her as she lay with the water just touching her arsehole. Then we shagged on, till I felt that nothing could take the stiffness out of my prick, but a spermatic discharge, and she seconding me with intelligence (for she wanted to fuck under water, as well as me), she lifted her arse and me up with her slightly, I withdrew the pillow, her arse then sank under the water, which just covered her cunt and my balls, and in a few pushes my spunk filled her cunt, and restored its smoothness. — We lay with our organs in the water, her breasts and my back out of it, and so we lay till my prick slunk out of her cunt, which it soon did.

There was a bed in the room, and a warmer in it. Rapidly drying ourselves, we jumped into the bed. The woman brought us some warm brandy and water, and we laid in bed talking over our adventure, and the difficulties of aquatic copulation, till we wanted each other. Then letcherously we flicked between the warm sheets, and fell asleep.

Before we left the bath, I had felt up her cunt. The water followed my fingers, which in retiring brought with it my sperm, which we saw laying on a cushion, when we looked in the bath afterwards.

Betsy spent with me in the bath. “I was as lewed as you. — Lord God! … One fuck in a bed is worth fifty in a bath, me dear, but you did fuck and finish in it. — You’re the fourth man who has been in the water with me, but the only one who spent under the water, the others flicked just outside it. — You’ve something to be proud of. I’ll tell Mary S**m**rs.”

Mary S**m**s was a big woman whom I also had at the time I knew Mavis. She was about twenty-four years old, and weighed fourteen stone I think. She was big all over, but had no undue stomach, no over fat arse, but the flesh was evenly distributed about her. She had the loveliest eyes I ever saw, of the lightest hazel, and a large easy cunt. I recollect that cunt well. She was very handsome, and was always in the Quad-rant in daylight, I don’t recollect seeing her of an evening. She tried to attach me, and used to say I was the loveliest poke she ever had, but there was something about her which I didn’t like, and could not at first comprehend. I thought she was lazy and dirty, from an oppressive odour about her. At last I discovered that her feet had a strong smell, and avoided her. But when she saw me she would follow me. — Women spoke much more importunely in those days to men. “Come along with me dear, I haven’t seen you such a time.” “I can’t, I’m in a hurry and am poor today.” — “Never mind the money, I want to see you so.”