ys the pleasant way in which she
spoke of a man's sperm.

"One would think you never cared about a poke,--I wonder how often you
spend." "Oh! it's all the same to me whether I have it, or whether I
don't,--if I do it once a fortnight it's as much as I care about,--you
beasts of men seem to think of nothing else, and you leave us poor women
all the trouble that comes from putting your muck into us." "What the
devil do you care about?" said I after a chat with her one day, in which
she had just said what I have narrated. "Oh! I don't care about anything
much."

Another day she said, "I like a nice dinner, and then a read in an
arm-chair, till I go to sleep, or a nice bit of supper, and to get into
bed,--I'm so tired of a night, I like to get to bed early if I can." We
went on talking about eating and drinking; she told me what she liked,
and what she disliked with much gusto and earnestness. "I'll give you
a good dinner", said I, "and we will come here afterwards." "Will you?"
"Yes,--but I won't unless I have you three hours here." "Impossible,--I
dare not be out after half-past ten." "Come early." "I can't come very
early, for I must be home in the afternoon." There were all sorts of
obstacles,--so many that I gave it up, not going to be humbugged. But
_she_ would not give it up, and it was arranged that if she might name
the evening, she would be with me at six o'clock, and stay with me till
ten,--an immense concession,--it was the dinner that did it. I saw she
was fond of her stomach, and that made me offer the dinner as a bait.

She would not come in after me to the restaurant, I was to meet her at
the corner of St. Martin's lane in a cab, and go with her,--and so it
came off. We went to the Cafe de P..v...e in Leicester square, I had
already ordered a private room, and a nice dinner. My God how she
enjoyed it! "It's a long time since I've had such a good dinner", said
she, "but never mind, better times are coming again for me, I feel
sure." She ate largely, she drank well, and to my astonishment when I
got up to kiss her, she kissed me in return, and gave my piercer the
slightest possible pinch outside my trowsers. "Let's feel you," said I.
Equally astonished was I when she said, "Bolt the door, the waiter may
be in,"--and then I had a grope, and she felt my prick. "Let's go--let's
go,--I am dying for you." Off we went arm in arm. Directly we were well
away from the Cafe she let go my arm. "You go first, and I will