She repulsed me saying in a whisper, “Harriet is upstairs.” “She is going out”, said I. “Wait till she has, if she hears you, she will make ...ischief.” As I felt this might be true, I desisted.I went back to the garden thinking, and hoping mother and sister would not go indoors. When Harriet had gone off, I went back into the garden parlour quite leisurely (for mother could see me do that), then down to the cook. It was nearly dark. In a minute I had pushed her up against the dresser, was. Staring at me with her glistening smile she said it was a little after closing time for most hotels around here. Walking back to the car I politely thank her for her time but just as I was pulling away I asked her if she needed a lift, seeing as it was a frosty night out and she was only wearing a tight see-through shirt with a pair of jean shorts. She turns around, nods and says ‘you know what, that’d be amazing’. Opening the door for her to get in I ask her where she lives, she tells me that. More

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