In the afternoon in the farm-yard, there were people about, and no chance of having Pender. Okxxx A pretty girl of a common, rustic style of beauty, and about sixteen years old; she used to curtsy to me when she met me, but I had never cast my eyes at her. At ten paces was the stable, and the friendly hay. My limbs were aching from exposure to night-air, as I spoke. Half-way down this shrubbery-path was a path connecting with that which went quite round the grounds. How very uncomfortable she looked. I knew where Pender lived, and by cunt attraction strolled in front of the cottage, though fearing to be seen.
