repulsed my hands, and drew her clothes down, looking at me full. I sat
speechless.

"Are you ill?" said she. "Yes," said I overjoyed with the suggestion, "a
faintness came over me, and a giddyness,--I shall be better directly."

She believed it, gave me cold water, and we sat for a time. I looked at
her beautifully white neck, thought how white her bum must be, tried to
get the black stockings out of my head, but could not. It must have been
past four o'clock in the morning when I asked her to lie down again, but
she refused; the spell had been broken, the weakness gone, and she said
she should go to bed.

"Is your bum as white as your neck?" said I. "Laura says I am the
whitest fleshed women she ever saw, all the girls at school used to say
so."

In my mind's eye I saw the white bum and thighs, my lust came back at a
rush. "Let me see it," I said, and I laid hold of her. The flood-gates
of my baudi-ness were loosened, and as she afterwards told me, I let fly
a torrent of voluptuous words, enough to have excited the passions
of all the women in London. I had forgotten the stockings. She kept
refusing, denying and evading me. "Hish! hish! Laura will hear you."
Laura did, and came in her night-gown. "I came to see if you had gone to
bed," said she. "You need not have troubled yourself," said Mabel. "As
long as you're here I shall look after you; when you're at home you can
do as you like." "I'm quite old enough to take care of myself." They
quarrelled. Mabel resented her interference. Fred roared out from his
bed-room, "What the devil are you going in there for?" and Laura not
replying, came in in his night-shirt. After an altercation Fred and
Laura went back to bed.

Then Mabel said she should go to bed, must go up for five minutes, but
would be down again. "To piddle eh?" Taking off my boots I blew out one
candle, took the other, followed her, and opened the door. She was on
the piss-pot. I closed the door, and locked it. Five minutes afterwards
I was on the bed fucking her with her legs in black stockings, and five
minutes afterwards uncunting, the first words I said were, "I loathe
black stockings."

"I can't bear them myself," said she, "but I am in mourning." People in
mourning wore black stockings then.

She was anxious for me to go, so that Laura could say nothing positive,
whatever she might think. I would directly I had her again. We got
into the bed together, and I had her, and then again. That is all