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MY SECRET LIFE I will show your more legs than your ever saw in your life.” “Girls?” said I. “Yes, I saw up above the garters of a couple of dozen yesterday in an hour.” “Could you see their cunts?” “I did not quite, but nearly of one”, said he. I thought he was bragging, and was glad when twelve o’clock came.

At that hour down we went, through the basement stored with muskets; it seemed dark as we entered, but soon we saw streams of light coming through the windows at the end; they had not been cleaned for years. We rubbed the glass and looked up. Above us was a ﬂock of women’s legs of all sizes and shapes ﬂashing before us, thick and thin in wonderful variety. We could see them by looking up, it being bright above; but dark and dusty below, they could not by looking down see us, through the half cleaned windows; or notice round clean spots on the glass, through which two pairs of young eyes almost devoured the limbs of those who stood over them.

As our only way lay through the work-shop and we did not wish it known that we were there (there was no business done there, unless arms were being stored or taken out), we went back before the workmen returned from their meals; but for several days did we go into the place, gloating over such of the women’s charms as we could discern; legs we saw by the hundreds, garters and parts of the thighs we saw by scores: quite enough to make young blood randy to madness, but the shadowy mass between the thighs we could not get a glimpse of.

“There are vaults”, said I, “if there, we could see right up, and be at the back of the women.” We tried unused keys to ﬁnd one to open the door, and at length —188—