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I can't tell you how I thrilled: oh, thank you, Lucille, thank you, you are the sweetest girl in all the world, and I shall always be grateful to you, you dear!"

She looked down at me musingly, thoughtfully; I felt I was gaining ground:

"You are lovely there", I ventured in a whisper, "please, dear, what do you call it? I saw 'chat' once: is that right, 'pussy'?"

"Don't talk of it", she cried impatiently, "I hate to think—"

"Be kind, Lucille", I pleaded, "you'll never be the same to me again: you were pretty before, chic and provoking, but now you're sacred. I don't love you, I adore you, reverence you, darling! May I say 'pussy'?"

"You're a strange boy", she said at length, "but you must never do that again; it's nasty and I don't like it. I—"

"Don’t say such things!" I cried, pretending indignation, "you don't know what you're saying—nasty! Look, I'll kiss the fingers that have touched your pussy", and I suited the action to the word.

"Oh, don't!" she cried and caught my hand in hers, "don't!" but somehow she leaned against me at the same time and left her lips on mine. Bit by bit my right hand went down to her sex again, this time on the outside of her dress, but at once she tore herself away and would not let me come near her again. My insane desire had again made me blunder! Yet she had half-yielded, I knew, and that consciousness set me thrilling with triumph and hope, but alas! at that moment we heard Edwards shout to us as he left the house to rejoin us.

This experience had two immediate and unlooked for consequences: first of all, I could not sleep that night for thinking of Lucille's sex; it was like a large