her middle
finger on her cunt; by her side a man with trowsers down, his prick out
stiff and crimson-tipped, one hand on the woman's thigh, and intensely
looking at her cunt.

"I want to do that with you," I said. "Fi donc! c'est villain," said
she, and pushed the book violently away. It fell on the floor, and at
the same instant she attempted to rise. I held her tightly, and pulling
her back on to the big sofa, her legs flying up, I threw up her clothes
in front, showing her fine pair of thighs, and the next minute I had
my mouth and nose buried in the hair, kissing and sniffing it, my hands
roving about wherever I could feel warm flesh.

With a shriek,--then another,--she twisted round (in doing so my nose
rubbed on her clitoris), her petticoats fell down, she got across the
room to her bedroom, and bolted the door.

I stood shouting, "What a beautiful form, what thighs, how dark the hair
on your cunt, how lovely my nose has rubbed on it; let me see it again,
let me fuck you, have pity on me." All that suggested itself to a
man whose prick was ready to discharge in his breeches did I say, but
fruitlessly, she made no reply. I went back to the sofa and considered
what to do. Soon I heard her moving, crept to the door, and heard the
rattle of piddle. "You're piddling out of that dear cunt," said I, "how
I wish I could feel it." The rattle stopped, and again I went back to
the sofa.

I had told her that I would take her out, and called to her to get
ready, she never answered. A few minutes afterwards I wanted to shit; it
was needful to go down-stairs into a yard. Thought I, "If she hears me
go down she will come out;--ah! if she does, there is the book, I wonder
if she will look at it." I opened it at a picture she had not seen,
tearing up little bits of newspaper, I placed them between adjoining
pages, so that if opened the bits must fall out, then said, "I am going
downstairs; if you won't go out, I will go without you."

I stayed at the shit-house some time, went up quietly, and heard her
door close as I went up the stairs. When I entered the room I looked at
the book; it was just as I had placed it, but two of the bits of paper
had dropped out. "Louise, Louise, you have been looking at the book."
"You lie," said she quickly. "You have, I put bits of paper in, and they
have fallen out, so you must have." "I have not," said she.

"I wanted to take you to see the shops, to the theatre, if you won't
answer I shal