Chapter XIII

Many miscellaneous whorings. • Mr. McCabe. • The warehouse in the City • Tenants paying rent. • McCabe's jocosity. • Suggestions for getting bairns. • Mrs. ***. • The Scotch wife. • The four-roomed cottages. • Repairs needed. • At her cottage. • Easy conversation. • The steep staircase. • The bed stood upon. • The hole in the roof. • The hole in the flesh. • Carnal wants and weakness. • Against the bed, and on it. • Against the dresser. • An alarm. • The amour terminates. • Reflexions, regrets, and weakness. • On the sin of adultery. • On the power of lust.

From the time I left Sally at the sea-coast till the spring my connections were purely with the venal ones. With the exception of having a few times fucked Sally, and her friend and mistress, Mrs. Melvelle in London, the ladies were mainly selected at the Argyle Rooms, which is the resort of the handsomest and best-dressed gay women. Many swell-women also are there with, and at other times without, their protectors. With several of the sweetest of these creatures I have had intimacy, and often passed the night with the choicest of them. I did not take a permanent fancy to any one of them, though one did to me. This variety is charming. To take home lovely women in the bloom of youth, and in the hey-day of their lust, to speculate on the charms yet unseen, to kiss and feel their thighs on the road home, to see them undress leisurely, their breasts ap- pear, their naked arms, the limbs show one after the other; to lift the diaphanous chemises, see the round mottes; to note and compare mentally the variety in form and development of the various splits, lips, and clitoris, filled me with voluptuous and ever-varying de-light. And now I was able to afford to have these charmers; for though not at the prices paid by their rich admirers, I rarely was refused by them. This charming variety in copulation was only broken, or rather varied by the following little incident.

I had at that time an old friend who had known me from my birth. A Scotchman, rich, and a widower, liberal in some things, but grinding in making money, though he was childless; and had none to whom he cared much about leaving his money to. He was about seventy-three years old, but a splendid big old man, with a head of thick reddish hair and fine false teeth. Though living in London most of his life he had never lost the Scottish dialect, indeed was proud of it, and of his nationality. He was a wholesale * * * ** merchant, which business he carried on in the heart of London in huge old-fashioned premises. I may add now, that he left me a largish sum of money when he died, and I spent it in travelling and whoring.

He had some funny whims and habits, among which was making some of his town-tenants go to pay him personally. He did this to save the expenses of an agent he said, though I believe it really was for his amusement. I have heard that the tenants could with the greatest difficulty induce him to do anything to a house when once they were living in it. One of my sisters and I used to stop often at his country-house from Friday till Monday, on which day he came to town as he said for his tenants. He had several clerks, but they had nothing to do with his property. He was fond of consulting me about some of his houses, and often I was present when his rents were paid.

Within a stone's throw of his counting-house were several courts. One court containing about a dozen small houses of four rooms each, and mostly let to weekly and monthly tenants. They were poorish but respectable; people of the foreman and shopman class, a class among which the wife does her own work, cooks her husband's food, etc. The old boy (Mr. McCabe) used to say this property should be mine. He did not leave it to me, but left me something very much better. Several of these houses were inhabited by his own assistants and men, but he made even them or their wives attend and pay weekly, or monthly, together with other tenants, on Tuesday mornings.

He was a dear old boy who could laugh at a smutty joke, though he never told them himself; but he would chaff a man or woman with double entendres, with hints, and suggestions perfectly unmistakable, and to the very limits of decency, without uttering an indecent word, or showing an indecent gesture. He was always ready to let this off at me for having no children, and specially this when any goodish-looking woman was present, before whom he dared venture on it.

One morning I was with him on rent-day, when in came a stout, fully-developed woman, middle-sized and full five-and-thirty clad in the neatest and cleanest light colored cotton gown, and a nice white cap on her head. She was the wife of a man renting one of the houses in the court, and looked like a very well-to-do, neat little tradesman's wife. She was indeed handsome though of a coarse class, had chestnut-brown hair, and bright dark roguish eyes. I was smitten with desire the moment I saw her. Perhaps I wanted a woman, I can't say, but recollect taking a letch. She also did nothing but look at me, turning quickly away her eyes whenever she found mine upon her. “Set ye doon Mrs. Byron,” said the old man, which she did. Whilst he settled with some one else, we two looked at each other for some minutes, till my cock stood, and the woman who seemed cheeky flushed crimson. I'll bet she had got randy too — it was a case of cock-struck and cunt-struck. Her big, round, plump, fleshy form was greatly to my taste just then. At length McCabe being ready, the woman rose and came to his table, just in front of which was a chair. I was sitting on the other side of the table near to him with a newspaper in my hand.

“Set ye doon Mrs. Byron. — and how's the bairn? — has it left off suckling?” said he. “Now you're at me again, sir.” The old man chuckled. “What, not a babe yet!” “Why you know there is not, — here's the month's rent, and you really must say what you'll do to the house, — it wants a lot, — my husband says he won't stay unless you do it up a little, — seven years, and you've never even done a bit of whitewash.” Whilst saying this the woman's eyes kept glancing at me at intervals.

The old man took no notice about the repairs. “Why ye should be baith ashamed of yesels, you can't under-stand the business, — have ye put the pillow at the other end of the bed, and tried it there?” — and he chuckled. I began to laugh. “Aye, aye, we understand all about it,” said she with a strong Scottish accent, “it's nae gude, — but about the repairs, — won't you paper the bed-room? — it won't cost much.” McCabe turned a deaf ear. “Aye, aye, I'll see about it, after next quarter, — when you've had yer fust bairn. There's a bonny lassie,” said he turning to me, “isn't she and been married ten years, and no bairn, — isn't she bonny,” — and he winked, — “a wish I war young again,” — and the old man laughed and chuckled. “Aye ye've been a weekend one in your day I'll bet,” said she, “none but yersel knows the capers you've cut.” “You should make your husband sleep by himsel for a month, then go to bed some Saturday, and not get up til Monday.” “He'd be tired o that,” said she laughing.

I could keep my tongue no longer still. “I'd like to be him,” said I, “and I'd go to bed on the Monday, and not get up till the Monday after.” “Aye, — oor, — aye, — there, — lawk,” said she trying to look modest, yet looking hard at me and laughing. The old man laughed loud. “Try him, Mrs. Byron, — he won't hurt ye, for he can't get any bairns of his own.” “Is the gentleman married?” said she. “Yes, worse luck for him” (he hated my wife). He gave a receipt for the rent, the chaffing mixed with business went on. McCabe got serious when the woman said, “Weel take this as a notice to leave.” “Go and see,” said he turning to me, “but I won't pay much.” He had sent me before on similar errands to one or two other houses, why? God only knows. Not wanting to offend him, “I'll go at once,” said I delighted at the idea of getting near her by myself, and with a vague notion that some fun would come of it.