Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden

but a gob of spew in my left eye convinced me that her desires were really aroused by my charms. I spat back at her, and watched the greasy morsel trickle down the open ulcer that spread across her left cheek, and had eaten away her nose and half a lip. She caught me up to her and smeared the pus into my mouth. In a sort of rapture she stowed me away in her fuck-sodden snatch-box, and rushed to her bedroom, there no doubt to initiate me into the joys of love, as known among these bawdy- minded buttered buns, and nowhere else, unless in your hearts, my dainty girls that read this book. Eh ? [48]