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“What’s that to you?” said she, laughing, but went on: “Oh! How is it that scarcely any woman will let you willingly look at her cunt after fucking, till it is washed? Porndig Charlotte came in after she had arranged about her dress. Then she wrote that she should marry, or have no peace, wished I was older, and then she could marry me; she did not write much common sense, although it did not strike me so then. Mary’s beautiful from head to foot; one morning in the summer, we sleeping in the same bed, were very hot. I opened my door, she gave a loud shriek and retreated to her room, I close to her; in a few minutes more, hugging, kissing, begging, threatening, I know not how; she was partly on the bed, her clothes up in a heap, I on her with my prick in my hand, I saw the hair, felt the slit, and not much knowing then where the hole was or much about it, excepting that it was between her legs; shoved my prick there with all my might, “Oh! My mother said I was the quietest and best of sons, as innocent as a child, and that I was suffering from severe study — she had long thought I should; the fact being that for four months I had scarcely looked at a book, excepting when she was near me, and had, when not thinking of Charlotte, spent my time in writing baudy words and sketching cunts and pricks with pen and ink.