“The one the Lady Catherine stole?” the Judge asked. “You fool Francis,” Mrs Fowler cried. Xxnx “Look,!” was the shout, taken up around the square, “Oh,” some gasped, and then with a wicked sense of devilment the whips-man flashed the whip between Fowlers legs and deep into his loins and all at once his manhood became animated and spewed forth such a disgusting greyish substance, like three day old milk, that stout women fainted. “Mr Matson, I suggest you proceed homewards and meet me at my chambers at nine tomorrow.”
I went home and I fretted and I was thoroughly bad company and indeed I slept badly and I eventually rose at dawn. “Now, are you displeased?” I asked, as withdrew from her “Or shall you enjoy being Mrs Matson.”
“Oh please, use me as you will but don’t joke.” she protested.
