her knees. "What would I give," I thought, "to be close up
to your bum-cheeks." Dirty linen, dirty clothes, sweaty flesh, none of
those objections occured to me. Then I moved farther up the field to get
nearer, for working along the ridges, they had got away from my resting
place, and again laid down reading a newspaper. I covered my lap with
it, feeling my prick beneath it, then I pulled my prick out (what
risk!), and just as she heading the file of women came towards me, and
began turning round; I again spoke to her. She stopped, the others went
on; I lifted the newspaper; there stood my prick, red-tipped as a berry.
She looked at it, at me, and putting one hand up to her mouth as if to
stop her laughter, turned and followed on the others with her work. Soon
returning she was again facing me, I saw her white teeth as she smiled,
and her eyes fixed on me; the other women turned round, she stopped
for a moment, off went the newspaper, and she gazed at my doodle for a
second or two again. She was further off then, and I saw her speaking
to the woman just in front of her, who looked round; I thought she had
told, and in a funk left the hay-field.

In the afternoon in the farm-yard, there were people about, and no
chance of having Pender. My desire to have her was intense. After dinner
I went to the farm, Pender had gone home, so I strolled into the lane
which the farm-buildings abutted on.

Between the Hall and farm-yard was a shrubbery path; laurels, hollies
and evergreens nearly met over head. It joined a belt of walk and
plantation which skirted the lawns, gardens and a small paddock, and hid
the farm-yard from the house. It took two or three minutes to walk from
the farm to the house. The farmyard on the other side opened on to a
lovely village lane running between fields for a mile or so; on one side
the land belonged to my aunt, the other to another proprietor. No one
scarcely went along it but farm people. At one end were the two cottages
in which I had fucked the two sisters years before; lower down past
the farm-gates, were one or two other cottages in which lived
farm-labourers, and in one of them the Pender's. The lane then joined
the high-road, which led by a half-a-mile to the front of my aunt's
house, and to the village. The farm-gates were always closed at dark.
A great bell which when pulled set a dog barking was the way of getting
in, after dark.

Leaving the wicket-gate ajar, I went down the lane, it