“Because they are my friends.”
The poor boy became very nervous, so I explained.
“I am a lady by birth, but who I am and how I came to be here, I don't care to have anybody know. If I told you my father's name, you would probably know,” that was a good bluff, considering the name was the same as my stage name-poor old Pop La Mare- “so don't ask.”
But he squeezed my hand; not as a man would squeeze the hand of a chorus girl tart, and I knew that he was in love, the first young man or title who had loved me. He likewise made an appointment for the following day, to meet at the Queen's Restaurant for lunch, subsequently a drive, and a hasty little dinner at his own rooms to follow-(he lived out of college).
I went down to the theatre on the following morning-the first time I had entered a theatre as a member of a theatrical company, and that early as I was, several of the girls were there before me, and the best places in the dressing room, which was to contain six of us girls, were taken.
There were the twin sisters Knock, Lily Legrand, a show lady of more of less mature age, but undeniable charm of figure, and little Bertha Vere, Restalal's mistress, who was not, however, allowed any special privileges in the company because of her relationship to the “Guvnor.” I had to hang my clothes up in the middle of the room, and do without a looking glass. My brand new make up box occasioned great joy among the other girls, who all appeared to have come with the tiniest remnants of the necessary powders and pigments.
My first day in Oxford, also my first day on tour was fairly uneventful. I went out to lunch with my lordling friend, but he treated me with extreme courtesy, to say nothing of a very good lunch. I found out afterwards that Oxford boys, while always delighted to get to know any actress on the road, yet expect little in return for their hospitality. My young man did not even attempt to kiss me, though we sat for a long time in his rooms after lunch-I think that he was even rather shocked that I smoked.
When I got back to my lodging I found the sisters Knock there, back also from a luncheon party. They had brought on my letters from the theatre. One of them was from the poet, and a distinctly improper nature. Its pretty indelicate imagery, and a most sensual drawing by an artist friend which was enclosed, brought so much moisture on my legs that I had to get upstairs and wash before I dared face the semi-public undressing of the theatre dressing room.
As the majority of the company had appeared in “The Drum Major” before, we had no dress rehearsal, and I had not even seen my costumes till I got to the theatre than night. “The Drum Major” was a tights play and all the girls in our room wore those fascinating garments. I was rather anxious to see how the legs of the other girls looked. Mine I knew, were all right, a little on the small side perhaps, but quite perfectly modelled. I could submit to the difficult task of inserting a three penny piece between my naked thighs when placed together, and keeping it there. I had also silk tights, a present from Mr. Annesley, who had informed me that the management considered cotton good enough for the chorus. He had found out the color of my dresses, and had these made for me.
The girls in the room displayed little delicacy. Maud undressed stark naked, and walked about the room rubbing herself down with a towel. Pier figure was good. Shapely legs, if perhaps a little too muscular to satisfy the artist who takes his ideal from the ancient Greek statues, but that was the fault of her dancing training. A firm, rather brownish skin, but without wrinkles, she wore no corsets, and round breasts with scarlet nipples. Her arms were also muscular, and she had the hair under her armpits shaved off, though a great abundance of dark luxurious curled round the lips of her cunt and blossomed up on to her stomach.
Lilly Legrand kept her vest on while putting on her tights, not omitting, however, to show the hair on the lower portion of her body, and the sexual organ underneath. Mabel Knocked stripped boldly to the buff, and displayed a figure which was almost an exact counterpart of her sister's, but she was more modest, and turned her back on us while she hurriedly slipped into her tights. Little Bertha, Restall's mistress, was far more discreet, and got into her leg attire under cover of other garments. The reason for that was, I afterward discovered, that she padded. I was also as modest as might be, and immediately aroused the suspicion of the eldest Knock girl that I had come to the theatre with my pads on, a common enough practice with some chorus girls who are ashamed of letting their companion tarts know that nature had not been altogether kind to them. She took me by surprise, and ran her hand all over my legs. “Genuine,” she pronounced, with a laugh, and Bertha looked envious.
I was one of the officers. It was a military play, and I had practically to open the show with five others, headed by our captain, a very dapper little lady who was the principal boy of the play. When I first walked on to the stage, I could hardly see for fear (luckily I was placed last). I felt practically naked and the music surged in my ears and it was only when I heard the other girls break into the surging melody of the song that I regained enough self-possession to join them. However, in half an hour I was all right, and got the brace of lines allotted to me off swimmingly.
The piece went well; Restall was in great form, and was ably backed up by his leading lady, a well known exponent of soubrette parts. In the third act he was at his very best, but I had an awkward moment when he selected me as the other half of an impromptu gag scene. To his great surprise, I answered him back and got a big laugh for myself. When the show was over, and he had taken numerous calls, he stopped me on the stage. “Clever little girl,” was the comment, “we'll do that again tomorrow. Come up to my room when your dressed, and we'll have a little drink and a little rehearsal.”
I was naturally elated, but the other girls laughed and more than hinted that I was wanted for something very different from a business chat.
However, he began in a business like manner enough, complimented me on the way I had made his gag go, and in his quiet, incisive, clever way, suggested the necessary outlines of the working up.
Then he asked me to sit down, gave me a whiskey and soda, and I noticed that his eye was devouring my charms with a hungry gleam. He began to let his conversation get rather frisky, and then boldly praised various portions of my body, my legs, my waist, and my breasts even. I finished my drink quickly and got up to go, but as I rose he followed me and clasped me in his arms before I had moved a step. I felt a passionate kiss on my throat, and his hand pressed roughly against the lower part of my stomach.
I protested and struggled for I had no wish to make myself cheap in his eyes by an easy surrender. However, nothing was of any avail. He did not prolong the struggle, but calmly locked the door and proceeded to talk the matter over.
His arguments were pretty matter of fact. He was altogether carried away by my beauty he said, and was mad to enjoy me. What harm was done, he argued, and he added that he could be a very good friend to me.
Of course, in the end I surrendered, and then came a very improper piece of business. Restall's costume necessitated skin tights, without any trunks, and, in case of any untoward swelling, he had his penis bound down to his stomach. So, when he had slipped off his tights, this curious arrangement met my astonished eyes-and he made me undo the wrapping till a fine stalwart member sprang from its bounds. I was surprised at its size, and condition, for Kestall was a man of over fifty who had lived every day of his life. His position had brought him into contact with thousands of girls who were only too ready to submit to overtures, and, if rumor was to be trusted, he had availed himself of every opportunity. Also he was a drunkard; I don't suppose he had gone to bed sober any night for the last twenty-five years.