On this she asked me if I knew Polly Philips. "Un-
doubtedly," says I, "the fair girl which was so tender of
me when I was sick, and has been, as you told me, but two
months in the house.": "The same," says Phoebe. "You must
know then, she is kept by a young Genoese merchant, whom
his uncle, who is immensely rich, and whose darling he is,
sent over here with an English merchant, his friend, on a
pretext of settling some accounts, but in reality to humour
his inclinations for travelling, and seeing the world. He
met casually with this Polly once in company, and taking a
liking to her, makes it worth her while to keep entirely to
him. He comes to her here twice or thrice a week, and she
receives him in her light closet up one pair of stairs,
where he enjoys her in a taste, I suppose, peculiar to the
heat, or perhaps the caprices of his own country. I say no
more, but to-morrow being his day, you shall see what passes
between them, from a place only known to your mistress and
myself."
You may be sure, in the ply I was now taking, I had no
objection to the proposal, and was rather a tip-toe for its
accomplishment.
At five in the evening, next day, Phoebe, punctual to
her promise, came to me as I sat alone in my own room, and
beckon'd me to follow her.
We went down the back-stairs very softly, and opening
the door of a dark closet, where there was some old furni-
ture kept, and some cases of liquor, she drew me in after
her, and fastening the door upon us, we had no light but
what came through a long crevice in the partition between
ours and the light closet, where the scene of action lay;
so that sitting on those low cases, we could, with the
greatest ease, as well as clearness, see all objects (our-
selves unseen), only by applying our eyes close to the cre-
vice, where the moulding of a panel had warped, or started
a little on the other side.
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