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MY SECRET LIFE “You don’t care much about poking?”

“I have had my wants, but suppressed them,” she replied. “What did you do?” “Oh I” said she in an off hand way, “what other unmarried women do, I suppose.” “Frigged yourself.” She gave a nod and said, “And not often that.” I thought of what Charlotte had told me, but held my tongue.

I tried to get at her at intervals, but it was no use. “It’s caprice,” said I with my prick out, “you let me when I wanted it three weeks ago, why not now?” “I can’t,—I dare not,—it might be certain ruin now.” “What does a fellow care about ruin, when his hand is outside a cunt, and his prick is like an iron rod?” Twice as strong as me, she could at all times have cscaped me, unless sexual desire was strong on her; desire gives a man force, but it takes away a woman’s force. She rose up, nor would she continue talking, until I had buttoned up my prick and promised not to touch her; that done, she said, “Would you wish to ruin me? You might if I let you, I have been very ill as you know, was in the family way, my monthlies stopped, and I have brought them on. When I was in trouble that way, I let you do what you like, now I am going home, what would become of me if I were in the family way then?” This explained all.

I had never given her a present, I never gave Charlotte one; having then so little money. I never thought about it. I had now more, and offered to give her some if she wanted any. She showed me a savingbank’s book. She had got nearly fifty pounds. I bought a pair of gold earrings for her, it was the first present I had even given a woman, and she was much pleased. I had I think some vague notion, that it —150—