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MY SECRET LIFE in the face, and replied, “You have no right to ask me, you are not my husband.” “But tell me.” “I shall not, it is an impertinence; how can a youth like you know anything about first or second.” I blurted out, “Because when first I did it to Char—” the name was almost out of my mouth, but I stopped in time, “when I first had a young woman (correcting myself), I could not easily get into her, it tore my prick, and she bled.” “Who was it?” said she. “Oh! a young woman.” “But who was it?” I did not reply. “Was it Charlotte?” and she looked me hard and full in the face. “No,” said I. “Now was it? Tell me,” said she bending over, kissing and coaxing me. “No, it was not.” “I believe it was, you once said she was young, and had dark brown hair—it was she.” In vain I denied it. “I felt sure it was, and with a youth like you! Is it possible you can have harmed that nice girl! What a wretched, wicked lot you all are, you will be as bad as the others.” Then she suddenly said, “Mind, you have sworn solemnly never to mention to any living soul about me; oh! once forget yourself, and it’s all up with a woman.” Then she laid down, again her manner became quiet and voluptuous—another fuck followed. I again tried the question. She settled me by saying, “If ever you ask me that question again, I will not let you have me afterwards,” and I never did ask her that I can recollect until just before she left us.

But she for some time after asked ME questions about my first woman, “was she tall? were her teeth as good as hers?” and so on. How far she satisfied herself that it was Charlotte, she never said; for I don’t recollect that she mentioned her name again, and I gave wrong descriptions; but may have got more —146—