’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. “You go home,” he said, at parting; “you go home. Certainly, there wasn't a thing in the pockets. How I envied Gianfrancesco on his wedding night, how I writhed in agony just thinking 171 about his intimacies with you! Then you became pregnant, and there he was, posturing and gloating like the rest of the family, my divinations of a boy in your womb pronounced.
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