I knew that involuntarily I had been guilty of a breech of good manners by those words, was mad with my-self, and hoped she would attribute it to wine. Her husband was of the party, but did not come upstairs after dinner. When her carriage was announced I offered to see her to it, but she took the arm of the host, and went off looking at me very kindly. “She has for-gotten it,” thought I. The husband, who was groggy, was in the hall and went home with her.

Conversation when we met next was about children, but I was unconscious of the tendency of her remarks, nor had I a glimmering of what was in her mind. “Yes, children are a bond of union they say.” “How can they be, if husband and wife are apart in taste, habits, and feeling?” “They say however bad a husband may be that a woman loves him if he be the father of her child,” I remarked. “I don't believe it,” she replied, and became quite agitated.

I met her soon after at a ball, I was there alone and her husband was not with her. We danced together, she was a lovely waltzer. “No baby yet?” whispered I, as I whirled her round in my arms. “No,” she laughed. “It's your fault.” “It's not.” “Should you not like a dear little child?” she asked. This was later on at night, she had had champagne, and the excitement of the scene had told on her. The sweet strains of music, the flushed and happy faces of the women, their white breasts and arms, the ankles and limbs ex-posed as they circled round, for dresses were then worn which allowed the calf to be seen as a woman waltzed, had excited me; yet up to that moment I had never had a lascivious thought about her. I could smell her sweet flesh as she waltzed, and was suddenly enervated by desire. “Yes,” I whispered, “if you were the mother.” “Oh! fie!” “Would not you like one?” “Yes, if I liked the father, — but that cannot be.” I hugged her to me. “Let us try.” She stopped short saying, “I'm tired, — I'm giddy, — let me sit down, — I'm faint.” “Come to the dining-room,” I said. She came. I gave her wine. “Leave me, — I can't, — I'm better, — leave me.” “But I must see you back to the ball-room,” I said. “Pray leave me, — I can't speak with you.” I left her, and soon after she came back to the ball-room by herself.

Then she danced with others. When I asked her again to dance, her card was full. “At least let me take you to supper, or I shall think you are offended with me.” “Very well.”

Until supper I looked at her from various parts of the room. Wherever I happened to be, her eyes met mine. The attraction between the man and the woman was complete, both thought of nothing else but, “Yes, if it was by you,” — “Yes, if I liked the father.” It meant fucking. Was she a loose fish, she who was thought so chaste? — was she in love with me? — was she like her husband, giving way to drinking? Was I in love with her? All this kept running through my brain, and with it a burning, fresh, yet never thought of till that evening, intense desire to have her. “She is married, — never mind, he is a beast, — it's adultery, — never mind, we like each other.” In that form of mind I took her to supper, feeling sure that she liked me, even if she did not love me, — but until that night no such idea had ever entered my head.

We talked about different subjects for a minute or two, looking into each other's eyes as we conversed. The champagne flowed. “Don't be offended,” I said in a low tone. “What is it” “My love to you.” “Be quiet.” “Change glasses.” “Why?” “That my lips may touch the glass which your lips have touched, — how I long to touch the lips themselves.” “Be quiet pray, — you will be heard.” The supper went on, the clink of glasses increased, the pop of champagne-corks, the clatter of knives and forks, the pull of crackers, the peals of laughter drowned all slighter sounds. “An-other glass, and look at me.” She took a glass. Looking into her eyes, “My love to you, Mamma,” I whispered. “It's too bad,” said she turning away. “Not if I was the father.” “For Heaven's sake, cease.” “Let me feel your hand — do pray.” Just then some lady next to us let fall a lump of jelly into her lap, a lovely dress was spoiled. There was a scuffle, and regrets, and laughter, and “No never mind it,” — and the flap of the table-cloth was pulled up over the lady's lap.

Though there were table-napkins, I raised the table-cloth also, so as to keep her dress from the chance of food falling, and spoiling it. I pushed my hand which was nearest to hers under the cloth toward hers. They met, and I gave hers a firm but gentle clasp. What a shiver ran through me as I felt her return the squeeze. I drew it toward me, and pressed it against me just where my prick (which had risen rampant) was shut up. She must have known what I was doing, for turning her face toward me with a wild expression, she with-drew her hand. It had pressed aginst me for an instant only before she drew it away. She declared afterward she had no idea for the moment of what I was doing. She got up hastily. “Take me back to the ball-room,” she said.

Later on we had a wild tearing gallop, all were excited in the room, and I much with wine and desire. I was holding her to me, whirling her about. “Let's be rakes together, — we shall have a dear little baby,” I interjected as the rapid dance went on. “Oh! fie! — oh!” she repeated, “oh! no now, — oh! no, — oh! let me sit down.” I danced on with her. “I can't bear this, — I'm getting mad I think, — you are losing all respect for me, — for God's sake, cease.”

The dance was getting over. “Good night, I'm going, — my carriage is here.” “Let me go with you.” “Oh no, not after your talk, besides I am going to take Mr. and Mrs. ***” “But there's room for four.” “No I dare not, — don't come down with me, for God's sake.” Her eyes looked wild, but they beamed on me through their wildness.

The carriage (one of the huge comfortable family-carriages of those days, room in it for four large people and six small ones) drew up. I was determined to go home with her, though she had prayed me not. It was a long drive, and on my way home, — and she knew it. It rained, and was past two o'clock in the morning. I handed her in. The lady and her husband whom she was going to drop on her road home, were in the hall. In got the lady. “Would you mind giving me a lift,” I said, “for there is no cab to be had, and alas! my carriage is not here.” The gentleman was at the back of me, but I stood in the doorway barring his entrance to the carriage. It was impossible to refuse me without rudeness before the other lady. “I shall have great pleasure,” said she in an agitated manner. In I got, the gentleman followed, — had I let him in first he would have sat opposite to her, not I. Off we drove.

I was now burning with lust for her, and felt a conviction that she was equally filled with desire for me. For a few minutes I behaved myself, but getting hotter and hotter became at last quite reckless. First I pressed my leg aginst hers, she moved them away. I followed them till she could move them no further, and still kept pressing my leg against her. I wore pumps and silk stockings, and slipping one foot out of my shoe, and pushing it under her petticoats, rubbed it up against her calf. We were all talking with excitement, she more than any of us, as if she wished to divert attention from what I was doing. “What a lovely ball, — I never enjoyed myself so much, — did you?” “No, nor I.” So we all talked and laughed. It was pitch dark, but as we passed the gas-lamps I could see an almost painful excitement on her face. Up went my foot till I touched the under side of her thigh by her knees. She gave a suppressed shriek.

“What's the matter?” said her friend. “Oh! I've got the cramp.” “Ah! you have got your satin shoe wet getting into the carriage,” said her friend. “No I've not.” I had taken away my foot at her cry, but soon impelled by lust again raised it up her clothes. Again she started. “Cramp again? — let me pull your shoe off.” “Oh! no.” The couple were near home. “Had you not better take a coach, we are near the last coach-stand,” said Mrs. Y***s***e, “it's more than a mile from our house to yours.” This before her friends. I could not say no, but with anger in my heart said yes, and thanked her for the lift she had given me home-ward. She pulled the checkstring, the carriage stopped, I told the footman what to do. Oh! joy there was no coach on the stand. “Never mind,” I said, “when you are home, perhaps you won't mind your man driving me back, it is only a mile, — how good of you to let me ride so far with you.”