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MY SECRET LIFE don’t oh! don’t,—you shant have her, I will take care”, and then she burst out crying.

I loved her so that I felt I would do anything to please her; but wanted her so much, that I could be cruel enough to do or say anything to have her again. Desire was the stronger. The sofa, the bed, the room, her beauty, all made me feel savage with lust, so I temporized. “I am so excited”, said I, “I scarcely know what to say, what to do, tell me more, what you. know, what you want, for all this stems so strange to me,-—sit down.” “No.” “Sit down only while you tell me.” “No.” But I laid hold of her and pushed her on to the sofa, and there I held her, and after beseeching her to be quiet and kiss me, she did so. Then she sat for a minute, drying her tears, and began her tale and her request.

“Mary is my favourite sister, she lived with us for a year after I married, but mother wanted her and she went home. She grew tired of being at home, went to service, did not like it and went home again; again grew weary; and to my astonishment, the last time I went to see the old people, found she had gone to live with your mother. I was frightened for her sake, for I love her dearly.” “Why frightened ?” I asked. “Why frightened? don’t I know you, do you think I have forgotten all ?” “I never thought of doing her harm.” “Perhaps not”, she replied, “but I would not trust my sister near you, if she had the least liking for you, or you for her.” I protested I was indifferent to her. “Why kiss her and squeeze her so ?” I began denying it, and she stopped me saying vehemently, “Now don’t tell stories, you never did to me, I know all, I know you do, you mean her harm, or if you don’t, harm will —225—