About a month after our first intercourse,
one fatal morning (the season Mr. H . . . rarely or never
visited me in) I was in my closet, where my toilet stood, in
nothing but my shift, a bed gown and under-petticoat. Will
was with me, and both ever too well disposed to baulk an
opportunity. For my part, a warm whim, a wanton toy had
just taken me, and I had challeng'd my man to execute it on
the spot, who hesitated not to comply with my humour: I was
set in the arm-chair, my shift and petticoat up, my thighs
wide spread and mounted over the arms of the chair, present-
ing the fairest mark to Will's drawn weapon, which he stood
in act to plunge into me; when, having neglected to secure
the chamber door, and that of the closet standing a-jar, Mr.
H . . . stole in upon us before either of us was aware, and
saw us precisely in these convicting attitudes.
I gave a great scream, and drop'd my petticoat: the
thunder-struck lad stood trembling and pale, waiting his
sentence of death. Mr. H . . . looked sometimes at one,
sometimes at the other, with a mixture of indignation and
scorn; and, without saying a word, turn'd upon his heel and
went out.
As confused as I was, I heard him very distinctly turn
the key, and lock the chamber-door upon us, so that there
was no escape but through the dining-room, where he himself
was walking about with distempered strides, stamping in a
great chafe, and doubtless debating what he would do with
us.
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