bottles of ginger-beer". In a few minutes she was
back,--I had given her a five shilling piece. "You may keep the change."
"Thank you sir", said she quite touched and delighted. I always gave the
change to girls whom I wanted to poke.
In her absence I went all over the house that was not locked up, even to
the privy and coal-cellar, had satisfied myself that she was alone, and
was getting quite myself again when she came back.
"Have a glass." "Thank you sir." "So you are Jenny's sister,--Jane's her
name I think." Yes it was. "Aren't you afraid to be in the house of a
night?" No she was not. "Sit down." "Thank you sir,"--but she stood. "So
you are an upholstress,--sit down,"--and after a little pressure down
she sat. We took ale together, and no doubt I spoke with all that
kindness which a man shows towards a woman whom he desires to poke, I
have heard women say that I have a winning, persuasive manner.
Gradually the conversation became about herself. "You've two
children,--why not more?" "Oh! quite enough for poor people." "Well you
see I can't get any." "Poor people are sure to have lots." "Two is not a
lot,--how manage to stop at two?" "Oh! it's all chance." "Is not another
coming?" She was getting flushed and excited. "Lord no, I hope not."
"Don't you know?" "I don't." "Yes you do,--how old is your last?" "Four
years." "If I were your husband I'd have a dozen." "Well you say _you_
haven't any yet sir," said she. "No I can't get any." "Ah! if we had
your money!--but with we poor people is different,--it's hard enough to
fill the bellies of two." "And so you won't have your belly filled with
another little one,--won't you, eh!"
"Oh! Lord," said she laughing spite of herself, "you are plain-spoken."
I was in the vein now, did not say an improper word, but gave baudy
hints, smutty suggestions about the dullness of sleeping alone, of the
results of wives being away from husbands, etc., till her eyes twinkled,
and she laughed much. I had now broken down the barrier, had brought
myself to her level, and she as every other woman would have done, took
advantage of it, and began to return my chaffing and banter, every
woman feels instinctively that when a man is chaffing her (be it ever so
decently veiled), about fucking, that she may safely return it: both are
at once on a common level. A washerwoman would banter a prince, if the
subject was cunt, without the prince being offended. To talk of fucking
with a woman is to
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