I said it was false — she might believe it or not as she pleased, that I guessed who wrote them, and so forth. — “One is in a woman's hand writing tho disguised.” “I dare say the same enemy.” — There was no scene about it. — I wondered who wrote the second letter, and concluded it was written by the same man's wife. — “Well give them back to me.” “Certainly not, I shall not leave you such means of injuring my character. Perhaps tho, you wrote them yourself.” — So I destroyed them.

A few days after I met Victoria, and thought she seemed curious in manner. After we had been in the room for a minute, — “I hope you enjoyed yourself when — where?” — I had been seen, she had heard, helping a female into a cab. — I denied it — who told her so. — Her cousin. — “Your cousin is a liar and very convenient to you.” “And to you also. — No, you shan't do it to me.” — We had words — but she liked a prick too much to refuse it altogether. — So yielding I was beginning the grope, when, — “I will see your cunt” — but she would not let me see it. — I fucked her with-out, and directly after we parted in anger. — I am certain now that she saw me herself with Mary, it was her usual day for being at the West End, but she never avowed it.

I took Mary to another dining place afterwards. Then we went different ways, and met at another baudy house for our enjoyment.

Mary always kept saying that I had given her too much wine on the first day, and she didn't know what she was about. — One day towards the end of our acquaintance when she repeated it, I said I was sure she was as lewed that day as she could be at the moment I met her, and that I saw it in her eyes as she looked at me, and in her manner when in the public house. She with a laugh, “Well you did look like such a nice man, I did look at you — and you looked so at me — that I wondered if you liked me — and I did feel as if I wished you were my husband.” “You wanted fucking,” said I. “I didn't know what I wanted,” and that was all I got admitted.

She wished she could go to see her parents before she went to her situation, so I gave her the money to go — as well as other presents. She came back two days before the time, and two good afternoon fuckings we had. She was to have a holiday once a month, and said that she would willingly meet me — I said I would if in England — but I did not — I knew her new address, but in a month after had other fish to fry, and so tho I in-tended it at the time I spoke with her, I never had her again.

She was not a virgin, but I don't think a regular fuckstress, and I think had not had it for a long time; she enjoyed not embraces so strongly. After the first day she was much less ready, and more modest, no doubt the wine was in her on that first day, and that her system was craving for a fuck. Had it not been for that, I doubt if I should have got her, but who can tell. The cunt which has once had a prick up it will always have it again, and she helped to amuse me nicely for three weeks.

Chapter XIV

Thoughts about myself, my skin and prick • At a Swiss village. • The hotel full. • A thin partition. • An amorous couple. • Ach mein Liebchen. • The chambermaid listens. • Consequences to her. • Against the window ledge. • The maid's occupation. • The loft. • A splintered foot. • A peep-hole made. • Young ladies bathing. • Three times a day. • Departure.

About this time I began to think more of my self than I had done — which seems a strange thing to me. I had to a large extent, though not quite, got over that mistaken notion about the size of my prick, — so many women having asserted it was a handsome sized one. And several gay ladies having shown affectionate attentions to me, from that I inferred they would not have done so had that supreme article of feminine worship been inferior. I might also say the same of a few ladies who were not gay, but whose cunts know pretty well the difference between a prick and a cucumber. For all that, I have been for a short time and more than once, temporarily impotent thro a nervous fit on this point.

I have within the last few years heard much admiration expressed of my face and figure. — I heard this both directly and indirectly, from chaste, as well as unchaste ladies. — “He might with his face and shape have married so and so, and she was dying for him, but he never knew it,” — was said of me. Another had praised my face, form, and my demeanour, — Camille told me that her maid always spoke of me as “your handsome friend, madame,” when she forgot the name I went by. I had, I know, a skin which for colour and smoothness, was like a woman's — dozens of women had smoothed, stroked, and admired it to my face.

— One said it made her spend, directly she rubbed her hand over my back when I was fucking her. Another used to kiss me all over and ask me to turn on to my belly, so that she might kiss my backside, which was equally smooth.

For all that I had but little conceit of myself and fancied I was too thin. — Another stupid fancy, for I never was what could be called thin, tho I was lithe.

— When I heard that any woman had mentioned me in a flattering manner, I used to wonder if it were true. Then I had a desire more and more frequently come over me, to see other pricks, and satisfy myself by comparison, whether mine was a full sized one or not, and I wondered if they fucked after my fashion or how, and if they spent as much — and how they looked when spending — much curiosity about males in coition seems to have laid hold of me, and I don't see any-thing wrong in satisfying that curiosity.

Sick of London, I left in July with a friend, and spent much time in the Swiss mountains. He was married but very fast, and we went to baudy houses together. Geneva, Berne, Lucerne and Zurich saw our pricks. We found it economical, for the regulation price was but about five francs a lady, and also safe (A clap when one is traveling is the worst of ailments.) — for they had just about that time put the Paphians under medical supervision at least in some of the Cantons. — Then he left me, and for some time I remained in the mountains alone.

Traveling where I listed, I reached G***d**w**d in Switzerland. The hotel was full, but they put me into a nice house exactly opposite. One of several, I found, hired by the hotel keeper for beds only during the sea-son. The owner occupied only the ground floor. The upper floors had about eight bed rooms, and very thin partitions were between some of them. I was annoyed at having to cross the road for my meals, but the land-lord said I should be very quiet where I was, and could have coffee, etc. brought to my room if I wished. Tired, and it being rainy, I had food sent in. A waiter brought it over, and the servant of the house took it then and served it, that was the custom. I did not notice that any one was so served there but myself.

The servant was a coarse, well grown, fair haired, blue eyed damzel, about twenty years old, and seemingly a peasant hired for the season. She had a bold look, as if she knew quite well what was what in man or woman, tho she did not look loose. Being alone I soon chatted with her in French — asked her Canton (it was a German one) how her sweetheart was, how her last baby was, and such like chaff. — She got neither she said, and enjoyed the jokes especially about the baby. — no, and she didn't want one. Where did she sleep? “At the top,” she replied, pointing to the roof. — I should go up and sleep with her, and she wasn't to put out the candle, — laughing, she said she was never allowed a candle there, for fear of fire. — “In the dark? why then you're obliged to feel your way about, to feel for the water jug.” — No, she didn't wash up there. — How could she find the other bit of china. — She could find all she wanted — she knew I meant the pot. — I said, “I'm going up to sleep with you, mind, to-night.” “Oh that would be fine.” She had better take the ladder away, she said jeeringly, — by which I found that she slept in the roof. Then she left the room.