I asked her who had been her lover before me. A young man, she said. Nice, but not the marrying sort, and he had gone abroad. Was he the first? No, there was one other. Who? She didn't want to talk about it. But I persisted, and after a few days' nagging, she told me. He was her schoolteacher, a man of about fifty, and he took her virginity on a desk, in detention one evening. She was the only girl in the building, the last to leave, and he was supposed to be locking up, when he suddenly put his arms round her and kissed her. Then he lost control, and possessed her.
"I was eighteen," she said. "He mopped up the blood with blotting-paper." "Did it hurt?"
"Och, yes, like anything, I got no fun." "Did you hate it? Did you tell anyone?" "Goodness, no! He was awfu' nice and gentle." "Did he h
