"I want to sit at your feet."
"You dear boy."
"I feel quite humble ... I don't want you to see my face when I talk."
She drew my head against her knees. Threw one arm as if protectingly over my shoulder.
"There. Are you comfortable, boy?"
"Yes. Are you?"
"Quite ... don't be ashamed ... I know much about life that you do not know ... tell me all."
So I told her all about myself ... my ambition ... my struggles ... my morbidity ... my lack of experience with girls and women....
"And I must have experience soon ... it's obsessing me ... it can't last this way much longer ... I shall go mad."