The dinner was served and it turned out a very gay one;

Monsieur F. was able to show his brilliant and cultivated wit. He sat at Madame D.'s right hand… I could have killed her!

After dinner, he approached me, asked to be allowed to pay me a visit, and talked to my husband, whom he pleased vastly. Madame D. sat down at the piano and played a lively waltz; Monsieur D. said that I was a good partner and asked me to take a turn with him, but he was old and soon fatigued, so Monsieur F. offered to take his place.

As I felt his arm encircle my waist I was taken with a nervous tremor that evidently did not escape him.

I gave myself up to the charm of the hour. Monsieur F. boldly profited by the embrace in which he held me, in spite of the spectators. As he turned a corner of the drawing room, he was able to press me so tightly to him that I felt for a second against my belly a certain object so hard and stiff, that I was nearly fainted.

That waltz was the signal of my defeat!

The happy evening was too soon over. Once more at home.

I undressed quickly, and pretending fatigue said good night to my husband, jumped into bed, not to sleep, but to dream.

I was placed on my left side, my bottom turned to Charles; a caprice seized him; I felt him softly lift my linen, and then, pressing against me, he tried to get into me from behind. I was vexed at first, but, my temperament overpowering me, I gave way to his designs, but he could not manage it, and he did not get in.

I lost all patience, and rapidly threw off the sheet by a sudden movement, I passed my hand behind me, seized the dart, which was useless without a guide, and stuffed it into my body to the last inch. I was thinking of Monsieur F. the whole time. I imagined that he was behind me, and that he was doing it to me. Under my breath I addressed to him all that I was burning to say at such a moment.