I had not been for some time in such a state of rut, I trembled with lust, and followed her longing for her, and wondering who she was, what sort of cunt she had, if it had ever had a pego up it, and the whole group of lewed thoughts and wishes rose which flood my brain when my prick is stiff. Just then she turned to cross the street, in doing she saw me, our eyes met and diverted her attention, an omnibus approached close to her, the driver hollowed out, — “Take care.” — She scared at her peril stepped back, and as her feet touched the grassy slippery mud of the footpath, she lost her footing and would have fallen had I not caught her in my arms. “I've saved you an awkward tumble.” — “Yes — thank you sir” — for a few seconds we stood close together without further word, till the vehicles cleared away, then she began again to cross, and had no sooner put her foot on the carriage way, than I saw there a small reticule which in her scare she had dropped. — Picking it up, without a word I followed her with it to the other side of the way.

She was there before me. In picking up the bag I lost time, and had to wait to let vehicles pass, and saw her standing and looking about, in the way people do who suddenly miss something — I put my arm with the bag at the back of me in crossing. — “Oh I've dropped my bag sir there,” said she in a tone of despair. — “Here it is.” — “Oh I am so much obliged to you, I should have been so sorry to have lost it.” — “Ah! I wish I'd looked at the love letters in it before I gave it you.” — “Not many love letters,” said she laughing.

Now we walked on side by side, chatting about her having been nearly knocked down by the omnibus pole, etc. “I almost wish you had fallen, I should have seen more of those lovely feet and ankles, which I've been following for the last few minutes. I don't know what I wouldn't give to see them.” — “It's not very civil of you,” said she laughing, but she looked me full in the face, seemed pleased, and again I thought that her cunt was hungry, so went on chaffing in the same style. Suddenly, — “Are you married?” I blurted out. — She laughed. — “Guess about it — are you?” — “Guess about it,” said I. — “I'm sure you are.” — “What do you want to know for,” I asked. — “What do you, you want to know about me for?” — “Because I'm dying for you. I fell in love with you the instant I saw your lovely face, and since I saw your ankles I've been scarcely able to walk, I'm lifted off the ground almost by it.” This was risky, but I knew if she were virgin and very pure, that she'd scarcely understand my meaning; but if she'd handled a rousing stiff prick a few times, she'd guess what I meant. — She looked me in the face for an instant, and saying, “I'm much obliged to you, but I'm going some distance and must walk quicker, good afternoon” — stepped out quickly. It was a plain hint that she wanted to get rid of me.

But I'd noticed that her face had coloured up, and a look in her eye telling me that she knew my meaning, that she'd had the glorious life giver, working and injecting its balm into her; yes, she'd been fucked I felt sure. But was she married?

“I'm going this way too,” said I, still walking on by the side of her, and went on with my talk, making it warmer and more suggestive, but avoiding plain words, and at last asking her to have a glass of wine with me. She wouldn't, was much obliged, but surprized at my asking, and she stepped out rapidly and so did I. But she wouldn't tell me where she was going, and wouldn't meet me anywhere; if I followed her she couldn't help it, but it was useless. — These replies were made among many as we walked on together. — Then I left off suggestive chaffing for a sudden idea came to me. It struck me like lightning, it's wonderful it had not done so before, but now feeling sure that she'd been fucked I was nearly wild with desire, was in my rutting recklessness, and felt that I would give all I had to possess her for awhile. She had so enchanted me, that it seemed as if all the perfections of womankind were hidden under her petticoats, and then her face was so lovely.

I had a few years before given one of my sisters (she is dead now) a silver watch which cost ten pounds; and had that day fetched it from its makers where it had been cleaned. (Good silver watches were much more costly then than now. ) “Were you going to buy your-self a watch?” said I. — “No. I was only looking.” — “Where did you buy your own?” I asked with no other object than to keep up the conversation. — “I've not one,” said she. Taking out my sister's watch, “That's a pretty one.” — “It is,” — and she half stopped to look. — “I'll give it you if you'll come and have a glass of wine with me.” — She stood quite still with astonishment, her eyes staring wide open, and then said quite softly. — “No thank you sir,” and resumed her walk.

Then I again begged her to meet me at any other time or place, said what I really then felt, that I was madly in love with her, that if she did not have a glass of wine with me now, I'd follow and would wait for her if I waited all night: that I would follow her home, and much of the same sort, all the time being at my wits' end to know where to take her to if she'd consented, for we had crossed the river, and were at a part of London but little known to me. I thought she would never get into a cab with me, for I'd already offered to take her in a cab to her destination, but she said she liked walking best, that she had that day walked from ****. About to name a place, she stopped short in her remark. I kept looking out as we walked along for any coffee house with the word “beds” on the windows, and at length saw one, which was a chance, when just then she turned off to a side road, and after a few minutes, from one or two indications I knew we were going in the direction of the same main thoroughfare, in which I first saw Winifred a few years ago, and near to where I had found out a convenient accommodation house.

She had allowed me to chatter on after I'd shown the watch, but was herself silent. At length “I'm going there, good afternoon,” said she. — “I'll wait.” — “You'll wait pretty long then,” said in a manner which stopped my hopes. She entered a largish house in a quiet respectable street, a house built evidently before the neighbourhood had become populous. She never even looked round at me as she entered the door.

Hope then nearly left me but my usual pertinacity in amorous chases remained. I walked about keeping the house in sight for an hour. It grew dark but still I lingered. Tired at length of loitering, I felt my prick, thinking about her hidden beauties, and that if in the dark she would get into a cab with me to drive her part of her way back, I might get a feel of that adorable hirsute opening in her belly, a grope which is in itself a voluptuous lascivious treat with a woman not gay, even if a greater treat does not follow. She did not come out, and then in my lust I thought I'd frig myself. She had told me that her friend or one of her sons, would see her into a cab, and I had noticed one or two young men enter the house as if they were residents there. Still I paced about, thinking of her lovely face, then of her sexual treasure, wishing to possess it, and feeling sure that she was lewed, and dying for the luscious play as well as myself. The second hour went and it was quite dark when out she came alone. In an-other minute I was by her side.

She either felt or well feigned surprize. “Pray leave me, I told you not to wait, why did you?”

“I would have waited all night, for now I can get a kiss at least.” “Don't, there are people coming.” — Before the words were out of her mouth I'd snatched one, and she pushed me off. Then I offered the watch again, and pressed her, still not using the plain language of love to scare her, but she refused. — “Let me drive you part of the way home — you needn't tell me where it is.” — She at last consented to that, but no cab was likely to be in that quiet street, so I led her in the direction I wanted till I got one, then in it I pressed and prayed her to have wine with me. — The cabman stopped at the corner of a street I had named. — “This isn't my way home,” said she. “My lovely girl come and have a glass of wine with me, and that watch is yours.” — “I won't, I dare not” — and so on for a minute or two. — Then, “I can't stop long,” much more was said hurriedly by us both, and in a fairly comfort-able bedroom in three minutes were we.