I fucked her again. First and second
fuck must have been all over in five minutes. I had not un-cunted.

"Pull it out," said she after an interval, my cock still keeping in her;
but I kept close to her, and up her. "Be still dear, do pray,--I'll see
what money I have." My hat and my great-coat were on, it was cold, I had
only unbuttoned my trowsers enough to get out my prick. Keeping still up
her, I thrust my hand into my trowsers pocket, pulled out all the money
I had, and put it on the bed beside her. "See, it is all I have, every
farthing, a little more than I said,--let me do it again,--there is more
than seven shillings,"--and pressing well on to her haunches, I began
wriggling my prick.

She turned her head, looked at the money, but did not touch it. "Very
well," said she in a low voice, "but take it out,--don't make my chemise
in a mess, I have not another clean,--don't make a mess on the bed if
you can help it." "I shan't." "Yes you will, you have spent such a lot,
it's running out now."

I withdrew. She took a towel which was close at hand, wiped her cunt and
spread another for her bum. I threw off hat and coat. Soon now we were
both on the bed, I up her, and leaning on my elbow for the first time
really looked at her. Up to that moment cunt, cunt, nothing but cunt
was in my mind. Now I saw that her eyes were blueish, her hair dark and
wavy, I recollect our staring in each other's faces for a minute or two
without speaking. A candle on a little table close to the bed showed a
strong light on us sideways; then we both fucked with vigor, and Mary
Davis spent with me,--she spent with me, that poor little gay woman.

"You are a nice poke," said the girl. I got off the bed, sat on a chair
by the fire, and looked at the merry face of the little gay woman as she
smiled at me whilst washing her quim. The pleasure I had just had,
the entrancement of the carnal pleasure contrasted so strongly with my
misery at home, that I burst into tears, and sobbed like a child. She
rubbed her quim dry, then silently came up to me, put her hand on my
shoulder, and stood without uttering a word till my passion was over.
"Are you unhappy?" said she in a gentle tone. Yes I was. "Never mind, I
dare say it will be over some day--we have all got unhappiness."

Her kind voice and manner--she a gay woman who owed me no kindness--so
contrasted with the coldness elsewhere, that it made me worse and again
I sat sobbing, and taking no notice