Parson Gay'S Three Sermons, Or, Saint Sacrement

The instant the train had well started, Fanny and I were kissing. — “Why, it's years nearly since we slept together.” — Pleasant talk of about that period we began. Where was Polly * * * * and Mary * * * *? Jane so and so was dead, and so on. Fanny herself was now Mrs. * * * * *, had left off gay life three years — they thought she was married to * * * * * — he had taken her as his wife to his mother and sister, and she believed would really marry her. She was true to him. He a good fellow, and with plenty of money since his brother's death. — “Now leave off.” “You can't look me in the face and swear that no other man than he has had you for three years?” “That I can” — looking at me as she said it. “You fib,” said I kissing her. She returned the kiss — “I always liked you, how strange we should meet here,” said she. Fanny was sumptuously dressed and looked thoroughly respectable and rich. She had got stouter. “Yes, nearly a stone heavier.” “Let me feel.” “No — now — no nonsense — talk as much as you like.” “Well! let me feel outside” — and I began by pinching and prodding her in all directions ...»