uiet, confused with the tumultuous
thoughts and feelings which rushed through my brain.

At length I said, "Are you sure?" "Yes." "It may be your husband's" (for
Hannah's hints came to my mind). "He!--he!--the miserable, contemptible
little wretch!--he?" She left off feeling my cock, raised herself on her
elbow, and looking at me said, "Who told you I was married?" "No one."
"Some one has." "No one,--but I have more than once fancied you were
married by the difficulty I have in getting you to come to meet me when
I want." "Some one has told you." "No one has." "I'm a damned fool,"
said she, "I dare say you know more than you say,--what do you know?"
"Nothing." "It's your child, and no one else's,--I'm sorry I have told
you,--say nothing more about it,"--and she turned on her back. "Are you
married?" "Of course not, or I should not be in bed with you." "Some man
is keeping you perhaps." "No one is keeping me either," said she.

I could not keep quiet, so much was I excited, and thought of the man
she met at J... s Street still, although she tried to hide that. I did
not like to suggest it, for I had found out that any reference to
him annoyed her, and I always avoided giving pain to any woman I had
connection with; but the matter seemed so grave that I could not keep
what was on my mind to myself, and as delicately as I could suggested
him.

"It's not," said she fiercely, "it can't be." "Why?" "You are the only
man who has spent in me for years." "What," said I incredulously, "no
one had you?" "No one has spent in me but you for years,--no one." I was
staggered, but returned to the subject. "Nonsense Louisa,--how can you
tell?" "I've told you why." "Why if you've a husband, and if you have a
friend who meets you, how can you be sure it's me?"

"I have no husband, and it's no friend,--if you don't believe it, I tell
you on my oath, on my body and soul, and may I go to hell when I die, if
it be not true, that no man has spent in me for years but you." "No
man has fucked you!--what do they do then?" "That's no concern of
yours,--but no man's stuff has ever been up me for quite two years but
yours,--I'm not going to say any more about it,--my business is not
yours,--nobody has asked you to keep the child,--you need not trouble
yourself,--I'm sorry I told you." She turned her bum to me, and began to
cry; I tried to comfort her.

"That will do," said she, "give me some oysters and champagne." I
ordered them, then wanted a