My Secret Life

I could think only of one powerful means of getting her, if anything encouraged a hope, and that was by money. I had not too much thcn, though getting better off, but determined if ten pounds would tempt her, that she should have it. I was a long time I recollect pondering over the sum. The Sunday turned out fine, I put the gold in my purse, and went to the house just after their dinner-time, and after my luncheon, at which I fed myself up well, and to give me courage took an extra glass, for I had one of my nervous fits of funking come on, mixed with doubts about the, morality of deliberately trying a married woman.

She opened the door, I walked straight in. “Who are you?” “Where is the housemaid?” said I, “I have promised Mrs. W. . .. to call and see from time to time.” “Oh ! I'm her sister sir, my name is I sleep here every night sir, Mrs. W. . . . pays me to do so sir, — my sister is out sir, — I'm very sorry, but she is not at all well from being confined to the house so much, — I told her she might go to church, — it would be a change, and give her a little fresh air;—she will be back at half-past four sir.” “Oh ! so you are Mr. So-and-So?” “Yes I am.” I walked into the parlours. There was a large beer-jug and two tumblers on the table, and ale in one glass. She rushed to take them away. “I beg pardon sir, but Mrs. W.... said we might sit in the parlours, when we have done work, and on Sundays besides, cause it's so dull in the kitchens.” The woman was agitated at her sister being out, and at being caught drinking beer in the parlour; she thought I might make mischief, I suppose.

I told her that she need not disturb herself, for I should not stay long, and kept looking with cock al-ready stiffening into her face, then at her arms, then at the bottom of her belly, and in my mind's eye seeing the dark hair down there. I had planned conversation, but forgot what to say, through thinking of her nakedness and sexual charms; and stood staring at her till she turned her eyes away confused, and colored up.

I continued to be embarrassed, and so lost recollection of all I had intended to say and do, that I was actually going away. I asked one or two stupid questions: if letters had come, if any one had been, and so on; all the time thinking that I was looking through her clothes at her naked charms. I was in a sort of a trance of baudiness which muddled me; when noticing the ale-glass I asked, “What are you drinking?” “Fourpenny ale sir.” That reply broke the spell, my senses returned, I thought of an excuse for stopping. “Give me a glass, — I'm thirsty.” “That's the last of it sir.” “Can't you get some?” “The pot-boy brought that, it's Sunday, and the public is not always open.” I looked at my watch. “It's not church-time yet, send some one to fetch some, — I'm so thirsty, and hot, and so tired”, — and I sat down. “I'm alone.” “Is not your husband here?” “No, no one.” “Do you mind fetching me some?” “If you don't mind waiting sir.” “No.” I gave her money. “How much?” “Oh ! fill the jug, —not with fourpenny, — with the best ale, — ask them to draw it mild, and get me two 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 lave 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 knew?” “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 !”