In short, and jumping ahead to risk your mockery at this early stage in my journal, she had seen exactly the kind of Englishman young and perverted thoughts had pictured her owning.
Miss Choudhary, it must be said – even if it does make my later behaviour still more inexplicable – was not as beautiful as she was young, though it must also be said there was a bloom of ideal health upon her perfect skin and she had a wealth of lovely and wondrously dark hair that drowned a pair of delicately shaped ears seemingly out of keeping with facial features more… rural… than classical.
Was it, I almost hear you asking, that I sensed a young admirer and was, given the needs a man of my age is seldom able to gainsay when they come upon him, already planning to take my wicked way with her – native of
