“Come sit with me, girl,” he said amicably, “and take a cup of wine.”
Alice was happy to do so. Sir Willoughby was by no means the best looking of the men she had been f****d by, but he promised to be the most agreeable. She sat beside him on the sofa and accepted some wine. Sir Willoughby pulled her skirt up in a proprietorial sort of way, as if his fee entitled him to ownership of her person and the right to be familiar. She did not mind. He stroked the inside of her bare thigh and sipped his wine.
“You must humour an old man,” he said. “I am curious to know what you are doing here. You are, from your speech and deportment, a well brought-up young lady, educated and well-mannered, quite different from the shameless hussies I have met hitherto. What strange series of events brought you
