alking, and even in language. She had learned the
value of her cunt, it was no longer three and six, but twenty shillings.
"I don't want _your_ money," said she, "let's talk of old times." We
spent several evenings together. One man almost kept her, she thought he
was going to keep her altogether, and hoped so.

I had taken her to the house in B.w Street, quietly there we talked all
things over; we laughed over the affair of Pol and the coal-heaver, the
sausage-rolls, the lost ten shillings, the afternoon her poorliness came
on. "So you are gay,--do you like the life?" She really did, got lots of
money, and now kept her mother who had been disabled by rheumatic fever.
I saw her daily for a week or two afterwards, and we fucked to our
hearts' content. Her motte was delicately hairy now, and of dark golden
colour, slightly brownish. Then I went to the sea-side. When I came back
to London, looking for her everywhere, I could not find her, and though
I longed for her very much, was obliged to render myself happy with
others.

To complete her history I must go forward two or three years when I had
been madly in love with a gay woman as I shall tell, but had quarrelled
with her for presuming on my love, and resolutely abstained from seeing
her, doing however great violence to my affection and inclination. I
used to go to the baudy house in J...s Street (not yet mentioned), and
cry to its Mistress who would ask me to let her send to the lady of my
affection (Miss M...s),--but of this more presently.

After reading over this part of my narrative relating to Kitty written
full thirty years ago, I add these few words.

My secret life was written for my own pleasure, and to be a narrative of
what I myself saw and did, and nothing else. I have pretty well adhered
to that, but my fun with Kitty took place within a few years after I
began to write, and describe the amatory episodes as leisure inclined
me, and as they seemed to me unusually amusing or illustrative. I
arranged them in order afterwards. Nothing at that time had been so
piquant in my acquaintance with harlots as Kitty's had been. I had
not then had much to do with lasses as young as she was, the novelty
therefore I suppose made me write out her narrative intermixed with my
own, at the length it has reached.

Besides Kitty was really quite original, her freshness, frankness, and
truthfulness impressed me much, and after much experience since in the
ways of frail ones