“This is my friend Julia Denton,” Molly Bashe replied. “May we come in, Mr. Jack? We were passing by your apartment after having finished some shopping at Horseley’s, and I told Julia that she would find you a most interesting person and your apartment even more so.”

More and more mystifying! But at least I must not remain ungracious, till I had discovered what had prompted Molly Bashe to seek me out and to ignore all the highly embarrassing memories which our second meeting must surely have cost her.

“By all means, do come in, you and your friend,” I replied, “but you will pardon me my summary attire, as I was not expecting company.”

“That is quite all right,” Molly Bashe said, and she suddenly gave me a quick little smile which further stupefied me. I was mentally undressing her and remembering our last encounter. My three exquisite aides had among themselves stripped her naked, and I could still recall how delicious, how exquisitely shaped and perfectly made, how lithe and charmingly rounded and plump for all of them, so juicy and fresh she was. I could remember, too, her large, firm, upstanding breasts with their saucy little dark-coral-tinted nipples, as well as the thick quantity of dark moss-like hair that clustered so prettily over her adorable virgin slit which, like her mother’s, was particularly plump and prominent. Of course, Molly was eighteen and a real tidbit, for all her annoying mannerisms derived, I was certain, from her mother’s influence over her. I should say that she was about five feet four inches in height, and now that she had actually crossed my threshold again, I confess also that I quite forgot about Alice’s imminent return to London on the morrow. It has often been said that a prick has no conscience, and no truer words had ever been spoken. Already I found myself anticipating how I could get delightful Molly Bashe to yield her toothsome person to me once again.