ou never to learn or seek
it, although I don't require this at your hands. I do not wish to have
any other woman spoken of, they all disgust me, even to look at them.
You know it, and you know that there is nothing, absolutely nothing, in
you to disgust me, but all that belongs to you maddens me, and I love
and adore all; it has become a madness, and you know it; for when you
are kind you give at least the idea by letter of that which you would
not do if you had the slightest doubt.

You know that I have sucked you between the legs at those delicious
moments when you made water, or when you had your monthly courses, and
that my happiness will be complete when you will allow me, and when
circumstances will allow you, to let me lick (_passer la langue_) at
that ineffable moment when your little love of a jewel of a bottom has
just relieved itself. In you every thing appears different and pure,
the purity which reigns in your every feature, the excess of refinement
which exists in your whole body, your hands, your feet, your legs, your
cunt, your bottom, the hairs of your private parts, all is appetizing,
and I know that the same purity exists in all my own desires for you.
As much as the odour of women is repugnant to me in general, the more
do I like it in you. I beg of you to preserve that intoxicating
perfume... but you are too clean, you wash yourself too much. I have
often told you so in vain. When you will be quite my own, I shall
forbid you to do so too often, at most once a day. My tongue and my
saliva shall do the rest.

If it is necessary let the doctor cauterize you (_toucher_), that is to
say with his instrument, and mind he does not fall in love with you; I
bet he has never before seen anything so seducing, so pretty, or so
perfect. It is to be hoped that the irritation does not proceed from
the size of my member.

You did quite right to go to the play, and I regret sincerely to have
spoilt the pleasure you had in going, it shall not happen again.

As to the place George had, that is perfectly indifferent to me.

Ah! you think that the portrait was done afterwards. You are not sure
of it, but it is a matter of no moment, my much loved one. I shall not
be the less happy to have the photograph if you are good enough to give
it to me, not too much in miniature. I shall be very grateful for it.

If I said that Galitzin was clever, I was wrong; he has a kind heart,
and is very fond of me. Now that he has los